Grey, silver, a quiet storm—
Not loud, but seen,
Like a star quietly burning
In the dark of winter’s dream.

Long sleeves that whisper elegance,
A touch of warmth, a hint of grace,
It speaks without words,
A soft embrace.

The sparkle?
Oh, it’s there.
Not in your face,
But in the way it catches light,
As if the stars themselves
Came down just to dress you tonight.

You walk, and the room holds its breath,
Every step a spark,
Every glance a reflection of your radiance,
A silver thread of magic in the dark.

So wear it,
Like the sparkle in your eyes,
Like the cheer in your heart,
Like the season that never says goodbye.

You are the holiday,
And this dress—
It’s just the beginning
Of your story, divine.