Christmas Wishes
Christmas wishes, mine, I’ll tell:
To gain nor lose anything else.
What others bring wrapped in bows,
Are only trinkets, I should know.
Instead souls, the fill the shelves.
Who asks for gems, whistles and bells,
Never felt the pang of death knells,
Nor heard the quiet when they go,
Christmas wishes.
Once a rosy-cheeked little elf,
Love lies cold in a narrow cell.
Hear the voices in the winds that blow,
From wither they have left to go.
To gain nor give, I ask myself,
Christmas wishes.
Copyright © Ashley Poort | Year Posted 2011
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