Bavarian Magic

Magic, that marvel of metamorphosis,
Drifts down the slopes of the Bavarian Alps,
Bringing wonder to the snow-laden forests of pine,
Enriching the village nestled in its valley
With gifts of mystery and mirth.
Children skate atop horizontal mirrors
That reflect an ocean of icebergs
Waltzing westward across the sky.
Their parents watch them with faces
Animated by the frostbitten gifts,
Which had blown between the houses
As they ate strudel, drank steins and danced
In the craze of beer gardens.
Barmaids and lumberjacks jiggle to klezmer,
Serenading the winter solstice
With tambourines that cling, kazoos that ring,
Bagpipes that blare all through the air,
All below trees decorated with ornaments
That glitter like the icicles that would have hung
From them had they not been replaced.
Castles crystalized by the coldness of crags
Shine in silence as the early evening
Welcomes the stars above to the crisp countryside.
The smell of grandma’s homemade cookies
Make the children rush inside their homes,
Where the warmth of a fire wraps them in comfort
Before the evening closes its chilly curtain.
The sun is down, Christmas is coming;
Lights are buried in the mountains,
Where whirlwinds of magic
Illuminate dreams in the darkness.