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X Tales, like sox in a drawer, no two alike, new from old legends, superstitions, yarns, secular to preserve our freedom.
A dozen tales and other stories:
Where do you go in winter, ho-ho-ho, JOHNNY CROW.
No proof yet exobiology exists, we cannot but believe in life among the STAR GARDENS.
Strings of colored lights twinkling at year's end are decoration, hope and other
illumination, CHRISTMAS LIGHTS.
Our celebrations pale compared to memory, CHRISTMASES OF YORE.
Not cold enough in Los Angeles to freeze a popsicle, we get many splendored treats from RAINBOW MAN.
The day three kings meandered to the manger is, for those of us not ready for the party in
December, THE PROCRASTINATOR’S CHRISTMAS.
He wanted a nice holiday, but had his own TOMMY'S CHRISTMAS.
Paxx llaxxx el diaxxx is THE BELL.
Better to shoulder the weight and travel with good grace through THE LONGEST NIGHT.
We would linger in this world we love so well, AYE.
A blue bird sings regardless, the SCRUB JAY.
The company of a good book and the GIFT OF THE LIBRARY.
You are free to FOLLOW THE DRINKING GOURD.
For the English-speaking from Anguilla to Wales, Australia, New Zealand and the
Christmas Islanders, for solstice revelers in Guam, Guantanamo, Governor's Island and Manhattan, Brits, Scots, Irish and Americans and surely on Antarctica's Scott Base, McMurdo where the winter night is longest need a tale for the turning of the season. These are for you.