The lights of the festive doorway, the only ones that spark my internal hearth, are the ones your eyes hold safe.
As if passing from a world of stress into relaxing bliss, that is our festive doorway, though to all the world it is the same as every other God-given day.
The festive doorway of nature's given bounty, the holly sprig and branch of fir, speaks of the evening ahead and relaxed forgiving mirth. For we are the merry ones making our own heart-spun traditions.
Into the festive doorway, beneath the fresh-cleaned plinth, we wandered in anticipation of relaxing banter. For where else can we be and speak so free, that with those who love us so?
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