Christmas is for children or is it?
They say that Christmas is the time for little children
Sugar plums, dolls and trucks, gumdrops and candy canes
Santa Claus, Old St. Nick and reindeer flying in the evening sky
I am not so sure that is true in every case
Thinking of gifts for little ones, or friends
Seems to fashion within my deepest soul,
Some of my very best inclinations.
More thoughtful, gentler and an eagerness to share;
The music of the season, the colors in the shops
The decorated wreaths and boughs, the scent
Of pine where young families go to choose, the perfect fir tree
The singing of the carols, the tale of Wiseman, shepherds tending flocks
And angels are at the top of my shopping list.
The problems and disappointments of this modern world.
I would choose to pay a never mind to
For this month of holiday, I am welcoming change
In even my gift list for, I am gathering.
The Story of the tiny babe born in Bethlehem
Bringing back a store of memories of my own childhood,
That is the gift I long to bestow upon myself
And as I wistfully recall
Those sights and sounds of the past.
I feel glad to be
A grown child with memories wrapped like presents
All addressed just to me
Beneath my lighted Christmas tree.
I think I might like to place a few
For other ones I treasure to some like you.
They say that Christmas is the time for little children
Sugar plums, dolls and trucks, gumdrops and candy canes
Santa Claus, Old St. Nick and reindeer flying in the evening sky
I am not so sure that is true in every case
Thinking of gifts for little ones, or friends
Seems to fashion within my deepest soul,
Some of my very best inclinations.
More thoughtful, gentler and an eagerness to share;
The music of the season, the colors in the shops
The decorated wreaths and boughs, the scent
Of pine where young families go to choose, the perfect fir tree
The singing of the carols, the tale of Wiseman, shepherds tending flocks
And angels are at the top of my shopping list.
The problems and disappointments of this modern world.
I would choose to pay a never mind to
For this month of holiday, I am welcoming change
In even my gift list for, I am gathering.
The Story of the tiny babe born in Bethlehem
Bringing back a store of memories of my own childhood,
That is the gift I long to bestow upon myself
And as I wistfully recall
Those sights and sounds of the past.
I feel glad to be
A grown child with memories wrapped like presents
All addressed just to me
Beneath my lighted Christmas tree.
I think I might like to place a few
For other ones I treasure to some like you.
By Barbara Renouf
4 comments:
That was darling, Mom. I hope I am one of those angels that you are talking about. (Hee, hee). Thanks for always making Christmas so merry. It's good to reminded about all of the reasons for the good cheer of the season.
Very sweet, Mom.
We all have our memories wrapped like presents to unwrap and remember.
I love the music, the twinkle lights, decorations, baking, and the book shopping, but most of all the feeling in the air that something wonderful is coming and we get to celebrate it each year. Thanks for sharing the sweet poem and your kind thoughts.
★Merry★* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★Christmas★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門｜ ˚
Post a Comment