In forest deep, where snowflakes lie,
A Cauldron stirs beneath the sky.
Its vapors rise-a warming spell,
In silence, all the woods do dwell.
The children seek, with hearts alight,
The Cocoa's charm this frosty night.
But lo! The brew is scarce and thin,
And quiet murmurs fill the din.
Oh, Cocoa rare, where does it hide?
The forest waits, its magic tied.
With hope anew, we search, we roam,
To call the warmth, to bring it home.
Through tangled boughs, the children stride,
Where whispers float on winds that bide.
Ginger, spice, and honey sweet,
Each stir of love-now complete.
Oh, Cocoa rare, where does it hide?
The forest waits, its magic tied.
With hope anew, we search, we roam,
To call the warmth, to bring it home.
A tincture bright, a sip divine,
The cauldron stirs, the stars align.
In balance found, the brew we save,
A Christmas light-the forest's wave.
So let us raise our cups in cheer,
The Midnight brew, now crystal clear.
With hearts aglow, and spirits bright,
The magic lives this sacred night.