December steps on frosted ground,  
Her quiet presence all around.  
She wears a cloak of silver light,  
And crowns the world in winter white.  

Her breath is crisp, her song is clear,  
A whispered end to closing year.  
The days grow short, the nights stretch long,  
But in her cold, there blooms a song.  

The firelight glows, the candles gleam,  
As hearts embrace a softer dream.  
The air is filled with spice and pine,  
With memories made in love’s design.  

December knocks with frosted hands,  
And snowflakes dust the quiet lands.  
The year grows still, the air turns cold,  
As tales of Christmas joy are told.  

The wreaths are hung, the garlands twine,  
With candles casting golden shine.  
A tree stands tall with silver glow,  
Its branches cradle dreams of snow.  

The hearth invites with crackling fire,  
As voices rise in tuneful choir.  
Carols ring through chilled night skies,  
While starlight dances, calm and wise.  

December calls, "Come gather close,  
With warmth of hearth and heart’s repose.  
Let kindness bloom like evergreen,  
And joy light up where night has been."

She holds the year’s last fragile thread,  
A time to pause for what’s unsaid.  
A month of peace, of hope and cheer,  
She paves the way for what draws near.  

So welcome, December, pure and bright,  
With twinkling stars on longest night.  
We greet you now with hearts aglow,  
A final gift before the snow.