Three Little Stockings

There are three little stockings,
Hanging neatly in a row.
On the simple mantelpiece,
Above the firelight’s glow.

Three little stockings,
Bearing faded names,
Awaiting to be filled,
With candies and little games.

Three little stockings,
Untouched on Christmas Morn,
Hang on the mantelpiece,
Empty and forlorn.

Three little stockings,
Forgotten for so many years.
All the joy and laughter,
Have been replaced by a mother’s tears.

Three little stockings,
Filled only with old memories.
Will soon be placed in a box,
With ornaments from the tree.