Monday, November 23, 2009

Finding Christmas


Long ago Christmas
Come back to me
Your drifting snow...
Your whitened trees.

The warmth of stove,
The smell of wool,
The secret smiles
The taffy pull.

Grampa's big shirt
Soft flannel check
My arms wrapped tight
'Round his strong neck.

Sweet cherry pipesmoke,
Barely there...
draws me up close...
Mem'ries in the air.

An old wicker rocker
Drawn up to the oven
Toes to the warmth
Just me and a cousin

Arms round each other
We share a sweet treat
Fresh Snickerdoodles
with little sweetmeats!

Gram's floury apron
she sheds for a chair
brushing a stray tendril
back to her hair.

I have Gram's laugh
I have Gramps smile
I'll have them both
For quite awhile....

Here in my soul
With all my Christmas's
Painted bright forever
On my heart's canvas.

I only need close my eyes
And I'll be there again
Flying on a bright red sled
Building fat white snowmen

Trudging through the drifting blow
Up a darkened country road
So dark the course I cannot see...
Look up and through the trees

Like a ribbon through the pines
Theres' all the old Christmases
Just follow the skyline...

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