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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Holiday >> ID #563441 |   |
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The Christmas Dream I lay down one Christmas Eve and drifted off to sleep, And from the distant past a dream arose out of the deep. Then I awoke and looked around, I knew it was a dream, Yet this was not my room, but a very different scene. The hallway was dimly lit, yet I knew which way to go, And I wandered down the narrow stairs to a room I should know. The fragrance there was strong with fresh baked bread and fruit, And a freshly decorated Christmas tree that stood so resolute. It wasn’t hard to understand, I’d been in that room so much, A room adorned with beauty, and graced by an angel’s touch. Memories flooded into my mind, coming at an awesome pace, Then there appeared out of my past, my precious mother’s face. She held a plate with sweets piled high, the best she ever baked, Cookies, candies, pumpkin bread, and a great big chocolate cake. She held my face within her hands and kissed me as if I were ten, Then hugged me close, and loved me still and kissed me once again. She showed me a gift that was mine, wrapped up with loving care, Adorned with brightly colored paper, maybe something I could wear. But as I tore the paper off, I knew this present was topnotch, And when I opened the box, there I saw my grandfather’s watch. Then I awoke and knew it was time for ole St. Nick to trim the tree, To bring the children Christmas gifts and now ole St. Nick was me. I went to my hiding place to get the gifts, and hoped they’d not been found, The gifts I had purchased at the local store for just a few dollars down. Then I got the special gift, the one my mother had given so long ago, And wrapped it as she had, with lots of love and a pretty bow, A gift I hoped my son would cherish and pass to his son lovingly, And connect us all generation to generation in what we call a family.
© Copyright 2002 Writer of the Winds (UN: caracas at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
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