the bittersweet time of the year where the kids
trim the tree



setting up the tree


Burgundy Drapes drawn against
the muffled christmas music of the night,
And boxes of trinkets, angels and baubles
Woven around by tangled strings of light.

My little girl sits, elbows on knees,
Remembering past Christmasas and past trees,
The rainbow balls and gauzy ribbons,
And how she wanted this Christmas to be.

From an old shoebox she pulled out
Every tinsel santa, woolen stocking and painted bell
That she and her brother had ever made at school
Every gold sprayed accorn and shell.

Store bought baubles were cast aside
Whilst each lovingly made trimmimg
was reverently placed on its own special branch.
One by one my daughter and I
With much banter and some poignancy
until it was time for the Angel on top
The Golden Angel.
Where in previous years she lifted her brother to place.
But today she placed alone.
We shared a moment and remembered her little brother
Remembered my son,

Then we turned on the tree lights
And it was done.

We dried our eyes, made cocoa
And sang a carol for every everyone.





Poetry by vicky vixen
Read 773 times
Written on 2005-12-07 at 17:54

Tags Christmas 

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Zoya Zaidi
What a beauty, sad, but full of love, ardour, the inevitable festivity of Christmas overshadowing everythink else...
Keep writing like this... it is very good!!!!!
2005-12-07


Albert
What a beautiful though sad story line and so well put together, thank you for allowing us this read.
Regards
Albert
2005-12-07