Dreaming Through To Dawn

She has so many reason she can hate
And love this season; so, let us surmise
That Yuletide and the year end may provide
A chance to think and, thus, to contemplate
Vague possibilities that have to wait
Until the coming nighttime, when surprise
Will bloom upon her cheeks just as the tide
of kisses covers them and all the ache,
Which they've absorbed throughout demanding days
Is washed away, just as the waters ebb
And take away her tears, fury and scorn
To leave her free to close her eyes and praise
The soul who spins this loving sort of web,
That she'd be caught in, dreaming through to dawn.