12/20/2024
Twas the week before Christmas, the frost biting cold,
The furnace sat silent, neglected and old.
But up on the rooftop, beneath the blue sky,
Stood Michael, not Santa, with a twinkle in his eye.
In a bright Hawaiian shirt, and his aviators too,
He worked on the furnace, to bring warmth to the crew.
With a twist of his wrench and a chuckle so light,
The furnace roared back, filling all with delight.
“Stay warm for the holiday,” he said with a grin,
Then he vanished as quickly as he'd first entered in.
Said a voice on the breeze in the day's waning light,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a warm night.
*Either Christmas magic or AI was involved with this post :)