The ghosts of Christmas past are present.
I can’t escape them on this special night.
They come, slipping through the fog of memory.
Sitting here on Christmas Eve,
I light a candle that can show them the way
To where Brandy and I wait.
I sit, listening to music that calls them forth,
And remember why they were important,
And why I miss them on this night.
The years, and Christmases past now are one.
It matters not these ghosts are just memories.
What matters is why they were important.
Tonight, as I entertain the ghosts of Christmas past,
The candle’s flame casts a warm glow
I hope will welcome them back.
The candle in the window will guide them home,
Where Brandy and I wait to renew memories,
Made special by other nights and other times.