The Woman Who Keeps the North Warm

While maps are drawn in red and white,
She knows the blue where cold lives deep;
She reads the wind before the night
And sets the hours the reindeer keep.

She measures sugar, time, and trust,
Turns chaos into counted grace;
When bells or tempers gather rust,
Her calm restores the proper pace.

She does not fly, yet makes it so—
The lists, the lights, the waiting done;
The hearth holds fast because she knows
What warmth must mean for everyone.

When dawn returns with sleigh-bells stilled,
The world is wrapped the way she willed.