Papa Paradiso builds floating aeries,
that only the angels and fairies can see,
near the tops of Christmas trees.
He is a sage reader of sorts,
and for roads with no maps or paved course,
he will be your guide and transport.
He is moved by an immortal song,
with a beat that bonds and holds strong,
heard only by hearts that have lived on.
He lithely glides like a bird,
without a sound or a word,
through the needles of his chosen firs,
highlighted by star, moon and tree lights,
he will brighten every advent night,
from dusk until the new day’s light.
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