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Christmas Memory Poems | Christmas Poems About Memory

These Christmas Memory poems are examples of Christmas poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Christmas Memory poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Your Eternal Flame

During the Christmas holidays a candle is continuously lit.
       It is in your memory to let you know I'll never forget.
Each year that passes gets harder than I like to admit.
       I sit by the fire reminiscing while I smoke a midnight cigarette.
Your vanilla scented candle burns on the coffee table.
       I admit when you passed I wasn't mentally stable.
You would be proud of me because eventually I pulled myself together.
       I remember you warned me so many times you wouldn't be here forever.
You were my superwoman, I believed you were tough as steel.
       This candle along with your memory helps me to heal.
It's kinda like you're right here with me.
       I think of you as I put each ornament on the Christmas tree.
Tears roll down my cheek as I whisper your sweet name.
       Inside my heart resides your eternal flame.



*I love you momma Merry Christmas Queen.....
Billie Jean Alexander Lopez...May 1, 1937 - July 26, 2007


Details | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Last Christmas

As I gaze, into a child's eyes
I see the joys of Christmas past
I see the hope that used to be
Wonderful to be so young and free
A child's eyes, all bright with wonder
At Santa s promise of xmas plunder

Singing carols, under mistle toe
Rum eggnog kisses, make our cheeks so glow
Snowballs and sleds, all of winters fun
Turkey stuffing, cranberries and rum
Glad tidings given to young and old
May god bless for sins untold

The angels dancing in the sky
Now its time to say good bye
This Christmas carol has come to end
For I will soon be far away
Watching over infants play
Heavenly bliss is mine eternal

The young will grow, and dance and sing
The cycle continues, on angel wings
They will travel down St Nicks road
And hear stories from the old
For laughter will be, the days only menu
As life unfolds, one and all say adieu


Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.

They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief 
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf 
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.

From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare: 
Carnati - sausages  kept in special aromatic smoke 
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears 
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost; 
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail, 
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
                                                                              
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled 
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled 
 And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.

This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
 
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it  the pickles cucumbers jar.)


Details | Quatrain | |

My Memories Of Christmas

Hearing the jingling bells of Santa's sleigh,
Hanging silver tinsel on the tree for trim,
My cousin and I going sledding all day,
Reading the story of Scrooge and Tiny Tim.

Building a house made of spicy gingerbread,
And hearing a Bing Crosby Christmas tune,
Leaving out cookies before going to bed,
Seeing eight tiny reindeer flying by the moon.

Santa Claus bringing toys down our chimney,
Almost every house twinkling with lights,
Cutting down a fresh, pine Christmas tree,
Hanging antique ornaments, so shiny and bright.

Grandma and I baking my favorite cookies,
Shopping for Christmas gifts in every store,
A fireplace with a stocking hung just for me,
And singing Christmas carols at every door.

My hometown covered in glistening, white snow,
And the sweet, minty taste of a candy cane,
Presents containing treasures we wouldn't know,
And drawing snowflakes on a frosty window pane.

My Mom making a snowman, as perfect as can be,
Decking the halls with garlands, wreaths and more,
Whispering wishes to Santa, sitting on his knee,
And the excitement we all had the night before.





December 12th, 2013


Details | Free verse | |

St Stephen's Day

All year you were doing it

And refused to tell me why.

Each coin given in change

Was dropped into the empty coffee can

And by July, another can was needed.

December brought the Christmas tree

That you decorated with care

And when I asked what gift you wanted

You were annoyed

“We’re not buying anything,” you announced

With that special tone of finality.

Christmas night we sat together

Under blankets on the sofa

And you were happy

And I was lost in awe.

On December 26 you leapt from bed

And shook me awake.

“It’s Saint Stephen’s Day!” you proclaimed

Playfully poking your finger into my side

“Saint who?” I asked.

So all the coins were poured from the cans,

Counted and divided into packages

Of equal amounts before you pulled me

Onto the streets and into dismal alleys

“This is Charlotte,” you told me 

And gave her one of the packaged coins.

“This is Thomas,” you later said

And presented him with another of the packages.

You knew all of their names 

And I couldn’t understand how

These residents of alleys and park benches and bushes

Were known to you like old friends

I even noticed that Thomas was wearing 

That sweater I was missing from the closet

“In Italy,” you told me, holding my face

Within your hands.

“St. Stephen’s Day is a time of giving.

Isn’t it wonderful?”

And in that moment I didn’t know

If the day was wonderful

I only knew that you were.


Details | Free verse | |

Your Eternal Flame

During the Christmas holidays, a candle is continuously lit.

It is to your memory to let you know that I’ll never forget..

 

I sit by the fire reminiscing while I smoke a midnight cigarette.

Your vanilla scented candle burns on the coffee table.

You would be proud of me, because eventually I pulled myself together.

I remember you warned me so many times you wouldn’t be here forever.

You were my superwoman, I believed you were tough as steel!

 

This candle, along with your memory helps me to heal.

It’s kinda like you’re right here with me.

I think of you as I put each ornament on the Christmas tree.

Tears roll down my cheek as I whisper your sweet name.

 

Inside my heart resides your eternal flame!!

 

Note:  For Billie Jean Alexander-Lopez...RIP - May 1, 1937- July 26, 2007



Details | Rhyme | |

A Busy Christmas

Lights shimmer and shine everywhere
Presents being wrapped with care
Decorations hung on trees
Bring back happy memories
Of the ones we made in school
That we saved and are still used
Mistletoe hung from above
So you can kiss the ones you love
We play our favorite Christmas songs
As children try and sing along
Signing cards with hugs and kisses
Making our holiday wishes
Loading cameras, we go crazy
From all this holiday frenzy
Elves are working through the night
To make sure every toy is right
For Santa to fill up his sled
As little ones are tucked in bed
Another year is almost done
Full of memories and fun


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I won't be Home For Xmas

I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.

When you abandoned the sweetness
and chased your dream into the alley
When you thought it best to see me cry

When your mind changed with the direction of the wind 
I stood there with spit on my finger tips...
holding my hand in the air,Waiting for the winds of hope
to blow your love and loyalty in my direction

Home is a strange city
where no one knows me.
where no one will invite me to sit across the table
and try to smile as I play with my stuffing on china with flowers
As I remember the children laughing and opening gifts.
I remember the long silent ride back to our house.

I think back when I got on my knees
before climbing into our cold bed 
The prayers just uttered coming back void.
Ask God to just let you touch me again
I needed your body-heat to keep warm.
I needed your support to continue on 
for the sake of the commitment.

For the sake of waiting for love to remind you
Even if pity could hold you there..
I would not be ashamed of what you sacrificed
When love had given birth to pity-
I would have held on without pride.

Now I never want to come back to that town.
Where no one cares that you don't love me.
I am in remission.
Alone but it's OK.
Please tell our future to visit me. 
On the seashores. 
The sun warms me in
my new home 
where no one knows me.
All my old friends are 
dead and dying.So...

I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.

Just my spirit and the ocean.
and one day tell our grandchildren
Grandma will be here walking;
With one finger in the air moistened with spit.
to see which way the wind blows.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.

Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,

Buddha, 
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.

Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
sermons preached,
and a million sins confessed.

Though,

the essence,
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
grandiose edifices,
that serve Religion Inc.

"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
conveniently discarded,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.

The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
stings.
stabs,
whispers still,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.

Buddha,
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.

The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
persists,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,

for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.


Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/


Details | Haiku | |

Haiku Seven

Kriss Kringle galore-
The sanctity of Christmas,
And blissful New Year.



Kriss Kringle: Germans word for 'Santa Claus' or 'Father Christmas',
 as being called in some parts of the world.


Details | Free verse | |

A Christmas Past

It must have been around 1967, a Christmas that 
feels like yesterday. Funny thing though, I don’t 
remember unwrapping it, I don’t remember jumping 
for joy, but I’m certain I did. With five children we 
didn’t think of asking Santa for more than one gift. 
Oh, there were always more gifts under the tree, 
ones from our grandparents and of course mom
and dad. But that one, the one you wished for 
was never knitted socks or mitts or anything
you wear, it was something special like 
a toy or game. This one year the gift of all gifts 
came to me. We always visited relatives and 
good friends and I remember taking it with me.
I see it in my hands as I sat with my very own 
transistor radio in the quiet corner listening to 
the Boston Bruins playing hockey with my 
hero number 4, Bobby Orr. I had a ten year old 
girly crush on him and I was in heaven that night 
every time the announcer said his name. Many 
Christmases have come and gone since then, but
the memories of that radio with an antenna and 
two turning knobs I will never forget.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.30.2014
Contest: Hush of Christmas Past
1st


Details | Monoku | |

CHRISTMAS FAIRYTALE


once upon a Christmastime dazzling across my memory





Details | Haiku | |

Memories await

twinkle of color
memories adorn each branch
stares await new ones


Details | Narrative | |

Midnight at Blackfriars

Midnight at Blackfriars 
  
The city spires are hidden, 
It’s getting colder fast, 
It feels as though we might have 
Some snow this month at last. 
The wind sweeps keenly through St. Giles(1) 
The hour is getting late. 
Fleeting forms across the scene, 
Are making for the gate. 
  
December is upon us, 
The year is wearing thin, 
Parishioners from town and gown 
Now are gathering in.  
Rosy cheeks are shining, 
There’s a spirit of good will, 
We’re coming in for Midnight Mass 
The Christmas Eve Vigil. 
  
Forgotten is the riot  
Of Saint Scholastic’s Day,(2) 
To celebrate the Savior’s birth, 
We worship now and pray. 
Conjoining with the acolytes 
Dressed in cassock’s white, 
We’re caroling together, 
Upon the holy night. 
  
A gallant in best evening wear, 
Bow tie and cummerbund, 
And a high-heeled damsel on his arm, 
Is down from Summertown. 
A staff nurse from the Radcliffe,(3)  
Whose shift was at an end, 
Was seated close beside them 
Clutching at her friend. 
  
There the widow all in black, 
Who cleans the votive stands, 
Holds her missal open 
With stubby fingered hands. 
She blends with the congregants, 
Ignoring the celebs,  
And is back up for the service 
From somewhere in St. Ebbs.(4) 
  
A student in thick sweaters 
And ragged scarf of grey 
Is seated on the furthest aisle 
Hair all in disarray. 
Across the nave the prayer chairs, 
Range back in their rows, 
Filling up with congregants 
In coats and gloves and throws. 
  
In from the rear the friars process 
With candles all aglow, 
Up the side aisle to the chancel, 
Caroling as they go. 
Above their heads upon the walls 
Are stations of the cross, 
Reminders set in stark relief 
Of this night’s final cost. 
  
We see the prior in chasuble 
For the apse proceeding, 
To celebrate communion 
And give the sacred reading. 
The greatest story ever told 
Unfolds with familiar ring 
Filling our hearts with the promise 
Of Christ the new born king. 
  
Then with the service over, 
We make for the hall below, 
Where cocoa and mince pies and sherry 
Are served before we go.  
Outside the snow is dusting  
The chained bikes in the Fair, 
Contented now we homeward fade 
Through the Christmas air. 


(1)Saint Giles Fair - Convergence of the Banbury and Woodstock Roads in Oxford extending south the Magdalen Street by Martyrs Memorial.

(2) The St Scholastica Day riot of 10 February 1355

(3) Radcliffe Infirmary - The first Oxford Hospital 

(4) St Ebbes is a district of central Oxford, England,


Details | Rhyme | |

Merry Christmas In Heaven

Merry Christmas in Heaven
From all of us here
You're not forgotten on Christmas
Nor throughout the whole year
Your smile, your laughter
Your holiday cheer
Fill the air in this place
If I sit quiet, it's clear
Words can't express the sadness we feel
Though you're in Heaven without one single tear
I'll see you again behind golden gates
For Jesus is coming, I know it is near
Merry Christmas in Heaven
I wish you were here


Details | Haiku | |

Memories and Yuletides

on the little farm 
lots of young rabbits conquered
grandsons' heart and soul

grandpa and grandson
spoiled them up to winter's end
while the years passed by

a cherished flashback
excluding grandson's Yuletides 
when rabbits were gone

© Ellie Daphne


Details | Haiku | |

XMAS

My boys unwrapping
their presents is God's gift to
my best memories.


Details | Free verse | |

A CHANCE WITH MY SNOWMAN


If you chance to see
a wandering snowman
on your way home tonight
Let me know.
The poinsettias have started to wilt, turning dull
The Christmas lights have flickered low into the night
The food has lost its savor
Gifts have been opened
Blurry are my windows now
As snow continues to hide
My precious snowman from plain site.

If you chance to meet
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Stop for a moment and play with him.
Share a candy. Make him smile
Make him a paper airplane. Make him beam and laugh.
Hug and kiss him for me. Warm his heart.
It's all a lost mother would ask
For Christmas.

If you chance to experience
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Please send him home
to a warm Christmas with me.
It's all that I ask.



Details | Rhyme | |

Arlington Christmas

With the Christmas season upon us, I wanted to share as many of my Christmas themed poems as I could this month.  Hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them.

Arlington Christmas

They stand there in ranks
Straight up and tall
Just like the day
When they answered the call
Row upon row
Section by section
They gave us their all
Without an exception
Some names are unknown
Some known are not there
But all get a marker 
To show that we care
You see Army and Navy
Air Force and Marine
Privates to Presidents
And those in between
From Civil War soldiers
To Afghanistan
We honor our fallen
Every woman and man
And every Christmas
We lay on a wreath
To remember the soldier
That lies there beneath
As I gaze o’re the graveyard
Of green wreaths on stone
I know that no family
Will e’re grieve alone
For this country remembers
And honors each year
All those who have fallen
And are resting right here

Mdailey	 


Details | Cinqku | |

Sequence


Christmas memories lost in frail mind. His family are strangers - eyes blank. Boyish thoughts of yore, Grandpa pretends, returns hugs with anxious smile – lonely.
for Dr. Ram's Cinqku Contest, 11/9/2014


Details | Blank verse | |

Christmas Past

Christmas Past A time I still remember, Christmas day In 'fifty-three…I was age fourteen then… And I recall those very special hours At home, so cozy, warm, with family Of many generations, happily Around the sparkling tree, with old-time trim Of bubble lights, glass balls…and Christmas songs Playing softly on the record player. Extended family…my mom and dad Grandparents, brother, cousins, uncles, aunts… Spent happy hours…and such a blessed time Was shared as peace and love was felt by all. It was perhaps the only year we were Together in one place for Christmas day. I keep that time of family delight In memories that fill my heart…for some There on that day, so special in my thoughts, Are dearly missed, no longer here with us… They fly with angel wings, look down from high Above in Christmas past, with joy and love… As I…once the youngest, now the oldest Generation…carry on that spirit And make traditions last…to someday be My children and grandchildren’s Christmas past. Contest: Christmas Past, Present or Future Sponsor: Kelly Deschler Theme Chosen: Christmas Past


Details | Rhyme | |

MEMORIES

Another Christmas approaching without you by my side 
Each passing one it gets better since the year you died
Not one passes without your memory coming in to play 
As one tear is shed as i awake Christmas day
I don't think there will be any ever quite the same 
Without your eyes for me to see or your voice calling my name
But as i awake Christmas day the memories will be there to greet me 
I will take all those cherished moments as i sit by the tree 
The boys will tare the paper open as they laugh and play
Your memory stays with us another Christmas day