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Christmas Nostalgia Poems | Christmas Poems About Nostalgia

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

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Details | Quatrain | |

A Christmas Snow

It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.

I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.

Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.

Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.

My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.






Details | Rhyme | |

A Christmas Wish

Once upon a time in a Christmas past 
I recall it well as it was our last  
my beautiful grandchild, she was two at the time
our little angel she surely did shine
we didn't know then that there would be no more 
it was Christmas 2003 the last one that she saw

so full of laughter as she entered the house
she was so excited as her gifts she unwrapped       
she was the star in our lives but now she is gone
her spirit we carry every Christmas from then on

so if I had a Christmas that I could return to once more
it would be that Christmas so I could have more time to adore 
my beautiful grand- daughter again I could see
the one wish in my life but can never be

into the future I hope this to be true
I’ll have many grandchildren and Christmases too
our little angel, always on top of the tree
my memory might be fading but her spirit is free 





Vicki Darcy
2015.

        


Details | Quatrain | |

HOLIDAY'S PAST REVERIES



As Christmas beckons with season of cheer I recall how we met, a hallway outside Year Nineteen-Eighty in a film's premiere; Offering your neck- scarf, we gently smiled. Flurries drifted while in haste I agreed, Invite for tea as we watched the moon fade 'Till season’s next, nuptial joy pealed At 25, a mistletoe crocheted. Tonight, the lights reflect your willow eyes Bestowing grace from Magi stars above Flashback of theme songs yearns for unity; Enduring a year of departed love. The holidays cloak time; you hum my name From spring's past budding to December’s snow, Alone, I toast reveries etched on life’s acclaim Kisses missed from my long- gone mistletoe. Kelly Deschler's Christmas Past, Present or Future ~based on my aunt's experience 1/03/2015


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 | Crystalline | |

sequence-FORTIES CHRISTMAS

Along narrow streets,carol singing
Boxes rattling,lanterns swinging

A stocking hung for Santa to fill
waking too early was a thrill

Chicken killed as a special treat
Finding  three-penny piece in our sweet

In England ,in our area at least this has not changed much in 60+ years
the 'chicken' maybe a turkey or a piece of beef even,the thtree-penny pieces are now 5p's
There is still street carol singing,albeit now for charity.


Details | Quatrain | |

Old Fashioned Christmas

The snow fell gently on a quiet street
Neighbors walked in without knocking
There was a feeling of joy in the air
As each child hung up their stocking

There was a coal fire in the heatrola
Which took a little while to start
O Come All Ye Faithful on the radio
And a warmth radiating from each heart

The kids all went to bed early
Couldn't sleep until early morn
Waiting for presents from Santa
And to celebrate the day Christ was born.


Details | Narrative | |

A Red Christmas Bike

It had been two days since Christmas
The one where the fates had granted me my fondest wish
A shiny, red, Schwinn bicycle..... a basket in the front, and a bell to ring

On that cold December night, the sky was stained by the color of trepidation
I remember my young mother leaving her warm bed at three in the morning
rousing us all with calm haste

Deep red reflections seeped through the mud-splashed window screens
as she shooed us downstairs, down the raw-grained stairs, 
not tying her robe, pushing from behind with her two hands
out onto the back porch, into the frost of the wee, early light
Then, we stood and watched the fire from a safe distance, 
as it consumed our garage.  And, my bike.

From the frame of the doorway, and the top step's narrow slat
she enveloped me in her folds of chenille to keep me from shivering.
The cool of her hand on my shoulders,
watching my dad in his attempt with a hose
warning him to keep safe,
while sounds of sirens wailed in the distance

When I looked up into her face, with anxious eyes
I remember her soft, reassuring voice 
"Hush now, don't cry"
"We'll find another one, just like it"

Then, I remember looking down, at her bare feet
turning blue in the cold


________________________________________________________________


Details | Rhyme | |

The Thunderous Wonderous Electric Toy Train

It was shiny and bright sitting under the tree.
There were other things there, but that's all I could see:
a Lionel toy train on a circular track!
The caboose was maroon and the engine was black.

And to top it all off on this fine Christmas day,
was an engineer's cap that I donned right away.
I had deadlines to make and my job couldn't shirk,
so I rolled up my sleeves, and went straight to my work.

Utilizing impressive construction techniques,
I made Tinker Toy tunnels through newspaper peaks.
With an engine, a caboose, and three railroad cars,
I would ride to the moon and haul back the stars!

It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
the thunderous wonderous electric toy train!

And then Daddy and I had to go out for bread,
and to pick up the big Sunday paper he read.
We're just about home when there was flashing of red...
and the crossbars dipped down at the railroad ahead.

As the freight train slowed up, I could clearly divine
the big engineer's head with a cap just like mine!
We dismounted and yelled, and I signed him three yanks.
He gave me three toots - and I waved back my thanks.

With my engineer's cap and my blue overalls,
I was dressed in a style to give anyone pause!
I had grand places to go and marvels to see...
but Mommy had my breakfast all ready for me.

It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
the thunderous wonderous electric toy train!


Details | Rhyme | |

Christmas Kisses

A pristine gown of drifted snow,
the first since seasons past,
infused with subtle dawn-like glow
from mirrored moonlight cast.
A stillness falls upon the night,
encased in frosty breath so light,         
     a stillness falls
          a stillness falls
throughout a land of silent white.
 
Untainted gowns of drifted snow…
lost summers, turned to rust, 
now lie at rest beneath a throw
of powdered diamond dust.
Fragmented dreams and edelweiss,
a frozen twist of winter spice,
     fragmented dreams
          fragmented dreams
sweet memories cocooned in ice.
 
Soft flakes of gently drifting snow
float idly to the ground,
and as they twirl new yearnings grow
with fears and hopes abound.
A tender kiss, caressing hands,
fresh mistletoe and tinsel strands,
     a tender kiss
          a tender kiss
and time-suspended shifting sands.


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 | Rhyme | |

A Homeless Man's Christmas Wish

Christmas day is coming soon
I can hear the little drummer boys beat 
As I sleep under a stack of newspapers
At my home here on the street
I have no shade from the summer heat
No shelter from a spring storm
When autumn and winter roll around
I have no blanket to keep me warm
I have no one to talk to 
No doctor to keep me well
My life is like the seventh circle
Of an everlasting hell
I have no feast on Thanksgiving
On my birthday, I have no cake
Most nights as I sleep in my concrete bed
I pray and hope I won't wake
I think about the man I used to be
The one that died so long ago
Now all that's left is this scruffy, filthy creature
Who I don't even know
Now that Christmas is here again
I pray to the good Lord above
For a gift that most don't appreciate 
Filled with lots of happiness and love
I'm not talking about material things
I can get by without any of that
All I want is a house and a family
Complete with a dog and  a cat
I wish every single Christmas season
That my dear, sweet Lord would send me
A beautiful family with warm, smiling faces
Sipping hot chocolate around a Christmas tree
We would have a most amazing feast
A rack of lamb tied up with a bow
Then we would all get bundled up
And go caroling in the snow
Oh, how glorious that would be
To have a family and a few friends
To have people who love me
Even after this life ends
God please hear my prayers
And answer them if you can
Just grant one simple Christmas wish
To this old homeless man


Details | Free verse | |

THE HUSH OF CHRISTMAS PAST

The Hush of Christmas Past


It came more slowly then.
After Thanksgiving
the lights and decorations
started showing up.
The excitement started to build.
Santa showed up at the
department store,  The
ads in the newspapers
were larger, some even
in color.  There was talk of
“the list”, and “naughty or nice”.
It was agonizing – waiting for
the night Mom said “OK, let’s
go buy the tree”.  The trip to
the back lot behind the
super market, “This one…
NO! THIS ONE!”  We carried
the tree - by any means possible -
remembering Mom’s warning:
“Remember, you will have to
carry that big tree home.”
The tree was somehow decorated.
Lights, tinsel, bulbs, each one someone’s
favorite, ribbons, bows, a picture
of the cat.  Now the speculation
began in earnest.  “Whadaya
think you’re gonna get?”.  “OH,
I hope, I hope, I hope”, “But I can’t
tell you, it’s a secret.”  We knew there
would probably be sox, some new
PJ’s, mittens – the usual.  But there
would also be those other nicely
wrapped gifts – from Santa.
The baseball glove, the skates,
the “un-wrapable” scooters, bikes,
baseball bats, hockey sticks.
These were always brought by
Santa Clause.  Santa supplied the
dreams, Mom and Dad the gifts.
We provided the unmistakable
sounds of Christmas morning.

There would be church and a
Christmas dinner, lost amid the
joy of dreams.  Dreams of snagging
that line drive with the new baseball
glove, of racing down the hill on
the bike, of Bobby Orr like moves
with the new skates.

The colored lights took their cue
from the setting sun as we gathered
around the table and savored the
sweet, juicy, succulence of Mom’s -
never to be equaled – Apple Pie.


John G. Lawless
11/22/2014

submitted to HUSH OF CHRISTMAS PAST – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Mystic Rose













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 | Free verse | |

Christmas Morning

Sting of cold tiles against tiny toes -
Hop, shiver, skip! Down the stairs she goes 
With that misplaced halo 
Of snow-blonde hair 
And a chest full of glee.  
She almost forgets 
Not to land on the third step - 
The one that always creaks 
(And makes it so hard to sneak
Through the dark, quiet house). 
On chilled tip-toes, she creeps.
Around the corner, she peeks,
Spying magical things.
The tree glitters and glimmers
Above full stockings 
And gift-wrapped miracles.
She stares with wide eyes 
Until the sun stirs in the sky.   
Her mother finds her asleep
Beneath the Christmas tree. 


Details | Kyrielle | |

The Christmas Stockings

Children far too young to realize 
That  some things in life you should prize
We had no jobs and no takings
Bare were the Christmas stockings

Scrounging colourful material 
Lace, chintz and chiffon ethereal 
Ribbons included in the making
A show for the Christmas stockings

Balls of red and green and scrap yarn
Imaginary faces darn’
On beautiful princess and kings
Displayed in the Christmas stockings

Plywood and some leftover paint
Canopy bed fit for a saint
Pea under mattress, her liking
Endured for the Christmas stockings

A penguin made of black felt
A hobgoblin with a scarlet belt
‘Gold’  jewellery box,  flaking
Accepted for the Christmas stockings

Coconut ice cut into stars
Liquorice plaited into bars
Brownies and tarts kept me baking
Produced for the Christmas stockings

My daughter was five that year
Son’s smiles, laughter brought a tear
After all this time – despite mocking
Treasuring the Christmas stockings

Grandchildren, by the Grace of God
Who, I pray, shall all be well shod
Now, material gathered for the making
Of the future Christmas stockings

***************************************************************


We celebrate the summer solstice over here and the only thing we have in common with our northern hemisphere counterparts is the traditional Christmas stockings. Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. 










Details | Rhyme | |

PROGRESS- Christmas Toys and Joys

PROGRESS
CHRISTMAS TOYS AND JOYS

The toys in the shops today are different from the past,
with electronics replacing bat and ball.
Even parents get in the mix, and children need be fast,
if they want to play with their new toys at all.
	
Back-yard cricket is forgotten when the Wii comes on the scene.
Virtual sports replace the games we know.
Invisible balls are slashed at when hit towards the screen
and a cartoon rival hits it back to you.

These rivals in the TV Box will play with you alone,
or you can play with a friend by your side.
Sometimes a couch potato gets up to play and groan,
but keen to join the game with a swing that’s wide.

The DS, Xbox and the PSP keep everyone amused
with puzzles for the brains of young and old.
There’s Pokemon and Mario forever been renewed,
played with concentration; fingers quick and bold.

But the games are put aside when we are called to table;
no fast food today it’s Christmas fare for all.
There’s turkey, pudding, pies and cakes to eat if we are able,
then we often fall asleep on the lounge, or in the hall.

But lives, when shared with others are better for the sharing,
with memories created and sent across the miles.
These keep us going when we feel alone, with no one caring,
then we see their photos; remember friendships and we smile.


Wordancer


Details | Kyrielle | |

Christmas Me Dear Mandurah

Mandurah, cruises, jingle bells,
The lake house splendor in shooting stars dwell,
Tremendous Christmas without snow, implicitly the stunner glide,
Black phantom unveil the cloak of his clandestine pride,

Scintillation gigantic Casuarina Equisetifolia ornament tree,
Embellish the solitude's dew which endorsed by the clasp of glee,
Dear Christmas Eve, I am your bride,
Let me merry you by the simplicity of thee pride


Author's Note:
Mandurah : Situated on Western Australia's beautiful coastline about 72km 
                south of Perth

***************************************************************
5th place
SEASON OF LIGHTS, DELIGHTS & ENLIGHTENMENT: OUR GLOBAL COMMUNITY Free Poetry Contest
Sponsor	: Cyndi MacMillan


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas delights!

Clouds garland snow capped mountain peak
Icy snow butterflies melt kisses upon my nose
Puffs of warm, moist breath balloons billow out before me,
quickly chilling, disappearing before my eyes
Crunching snow compacts beneath booted feet
Prints set deep, little more than momentary reminder 
of where you have stepped before
Crisp white blanket glints
almost winking it’s Christmas card welcome
as it’s vast white carpet spreads before you beckoning 
All of nature along with everything manmade becomes anew
Nothing seems out of place
A bird lands on branch of tree causing cascade of padded canopy
New mound takes position with little noticed effect on perfect landscape

Children laugh and run as they hurl packed balls at one another
Dashing, darting, ducking and returning rogue ammunition
to offending hand and screams of pleasure
Slipping, falling they tumble over repeatedly 
Waving arms and legs, when finally still to create snow angels
Then, standing up clothed as abominable snowman
Giving rise to fresh ideas as new creation begins with rolling snow
Bigger and bigger they chase and push, packing tight as they go
Another ball a little smaller to place on top of first for head
Then off they scatter in all directions looking to clothe their model
Returning with woollen hat scarf 
carrot and stones to place as eyes nose and mouth with button features
Admiring they know their masterpiece shall be short-lived
For mother nature’s hand will chance to create another slushy muddy puddle


Details | Quatrain | |

A Christmas Tradition

So many traditions run deep in all of our families, And each holiday calls for a memorable and worthy gathering. At Christmas, one tradition fills our hearts with glee! When caught up in the season of joy; sadness, never harboring! We find that it matters not whether a leaf has fallen from our tree, And sailed on angels' wings to join the celebration above. We reminisce of yesteryears assured their spirits are free... Free from turmoil and chaos; free to taste purest love. High upon the Christmas tree, there, amongst sparkling colored balls; Tucked between precious old ornaments and brilliant, festive lights, Hang these amazing balls of glass; bearing the names of all. They're protected by the extra padded skirt made of satin- red and white Time will not dissolve memories or the love and affection which flows, When kindred spirits, on Christmas morn, gather to hear the sacred story. We’d recall the prudent sayings; simple stories that nurture, still, our souls, While in harmony, young ones and old, celebrate God’s majestic glory! ~*~
Note: For the Contest, "Traditions" 12/11 *Ist Place


Details | Free verse | |

A CHRISTMAS SNOW

       A Christmas Snow

He peered out the window
breath frosting on the glass,
scratched the outline of a Christmas Tree
in the misted snow covering the pane.

It was cold enough, it was due
but the only flakes in the sky
were the shivering solstice stars.
Perhaps it would be a barren Christmas.

There had been other times, cold times,
when the sleds lay idle, the snow man’s
corn cob pipe and button nose
sat faceless in the hat.

He turned from his window gazing,
casting a glance at the Christmas tree,
a little bare in spots, a few lights
hanging on for one more year.

The bulbs all told a story,
the one Billy brought home
on leave from the military,
it became his little brother’s favorite.

Those awful, yet splendidly awesome,
hand made by the children,
not quite ready for the down town tree
sprinkley, sparkley, spectaculars.

He wiped a tear away,
he was alone now
looking out that window – hoping 
for one more Christmas Snow.


John G. Lawless
11/25/2014

Not submitted to the contest – unrhymed…


Details | Rhyme | |

What is Christmas Really About

Quickly is coming Christmas day,
Perhaps you ponder with dismay
Amidst the shopping and the shouts,
What is Christmas really about?
 
Is it about reindeer and elves,
The gifts we wish for ourselves?
Is it about wrapping paper and bows,
Stockings stuffed with goodies clear to the toes?

Is it about family, friends, and feast,
The smell of bread baking rising with yeast?
About trees, lights, and cute decorations,
Parties, eggnog, and celebrations?

These commodities make the holiday bright,
But something else is required to make it right;
For Christmas is not about programs and costumes worn,
But about a miraculous baby that was born.

About Mary and Joseph, man and wife,
Who came to Bethlehem pregnant with life.
No room was left for them in the inn,
Shelter was found in a cattle pen.

The time of her delivery would not waiver,
In that stable she experienced labor.
Born into a place smelling of manure,
Christ arrived our salvation to assure.

Nearby shepherds tending flocks by night
Were startled by a glorious light.
Angels while seeking to calm their fear
Came proclaiming this event of cheer.

Told of a birth of a baby boy,
A king, a savior, who would bring joy.
His mission was one of peace,
From our sins to bring release.

Then with haste they went with glee,
Marveled at what they did see;
Found him in a manger yet filled with glory
Then left with excitement to tell his story.

So as we gather this December
May this jingle help us remember,
Christmas is not about dear old Santa Claus
But about the Christ who saves us from our flaws.



Details | Free verse | |

A Cambridge Lamentation

This place is always a little lonely 
At the weekends...no noise and life, 
I like solitude, 
But not in places 
Where's there's recently been 
A lot of people.

Reclusiveness protects you 
From nostalgia, 
And you can be as nostalgic 
In relation to what happened 
Half an hour ago 
As half a century ago, in fact more so. 
                                                              
I went to the Xmas party. 
I danced, 
And generally lived it up. 
I went to bed sad though. 
Discos exacerbate 
My sense of solitude.

My capacity for social warmth, 
Excessive social dependence 
And romantic zeal 
Can be practically deranging; 
It's no wonder I feel the need 
To escape...
                                                              
Escape from my own 
Drastic social emotivity
And devastating capacity
For loneliness. 
I feel trapped here, 
There's no 
Outlet for my talents.
                                                              
In such a state as this 
I could fall in love with anyone. 
The night before last 
I went to the ball, 
Couples filing out,  
I wanted to be half of every one,  

But I didn't want to lose ***.  
I'll get over how I feel now, 
And very soon. 
Gradually I'll freeze again, 
Even assuming an extra layer of snow.  
I have to get out of here.

(Adapted from an unfinished and unsent letter penned just before Christmas 1986.)


Details | Quatrain | |

Christmas In The Forties



The best Christmas gift I receive each year Is love, simply pure sweet affection What could possibly be more cherished than that It's the meaning of Christmas on reflection Too bad this feeling doesn't last the whole year What a joyous world it would be Dream on little fellow, you're a wee bit delusional You're sounding like a nostalgic retiree The world has changed and not for the better It's just a personal opinion I quote Gone are the days of warm Christmas visits Bearing gifts under big overcoats Each generation has it's own treasured memories Today's kids will remember theirs fondly But ask anybody from back in the forties They'll say those were the best, by golly <3 <3 <3 © Jack Ellison 2013


Details | I do not know? | |

More than weather, can be frightful or Unseasonal Christmas

Used to be the weather was frightful
People covered themselves from head to toe
Now, despite the fact it’s Christmas season
I see more sand, than I see snow
The temperatures keep on elevating
To the moon, they just seem to rise
Oh, where is the Christmas of yesterday
The rosy cheeks, windows fogged with ice

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Frosty, it seems we’re not gonna see him
Heat miser, now, has gotten his day
Can’t ole Jack Frost do something about this
And chase the warm weather away
No need to chop wood set for burning
The heated air replaces that in the hearth
I hope it gets cold and very soon, too
Because Christmas puts warmth in everyone’s heart

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Oh, when Christmas day finally gets here
Right now, I’ll tell ya, all I wanna see
Are people with scarves and gloves on their hands
And snow bringing life to all barren trees
I want the temps to chill me right to the bone
That’s when I’ll know it’s Christmas time
Who wants to look up and see a sleigh
With a fat man in a speedo, flying around

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town


Details | Couplet | |

Santa Laughs in July

A Christmas kiss for that Miss Surely her lips he could not miss Heartwarming and enticing That beau was truly in-loving A kiss since so long due Filled with artful cue A Christmas kiss in July The magic in this month did fly A time when laughter was on those lips Except for her and him who strayed from those trips Surrounded by doom and gloom A kiss which made each other bloom Love, wonderful state of bliss Lacking in it caused them to be amiss Repaired by a Christmas kiss in July Santa could only laugh from the sky


Details | Dodoitsu | |

The Not-So-Secret Christmas Gift

He could not find the great sock
His own was small and lonely
On the dream filled night he saw
Father’s stocking hung

By Grace Williams, for the contest "Christmas Stocking Tribute", written December 8th 2011


Details | Free verse | |

WHERE ARE THE STARS THIS CHRISTMAS

My street without the stars:

I miss those stars of different colors
The aroma of baking around
The perfume of church going folks
Who walk in silk saris and gowns

The suit and tie in place
With shining shoes along
Little children aping the adult
Following in suits and small little ties
The pretty girls with their rustling skirts
And jeans and tops too
The street used to be filled 
With these folks around

Now not a single star anywhere 
No folks to wish merry christmas
Where are you my friends? 
I wish you from here
Pray for your happiness 
May god bless you the year around….sunkan


Details | Villanelle | |

Alone

The Christmas tree stands alone
But still decorated with lights glowing
The family has come and gone

A misty tear drop with a quiet groan
Remembering the days when they were home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Wanting little ones to come and crawl in zone
Of the blanket, packages, and decorations
The family has come and gone

Leftover food, torn wrap, lights that shone
Guiding them to this warm old home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Dirty dishes, soiled placemats, candles blown
Still longing for them at home
The family has come and gone

Time passes, situations change
The love in my heart remains the same
The Christmas tree stands alone
The family has come and gone


Details | Rhyme | |

Ten Years Old That Christmas Day

I went to sleep on Christmas Eve and woke up in the past
With cotton footed jammies on, that I was ten when I wore last
I saw a man who looks like me, who I realized was my Dad
Sitting in front of the fireplace, holding my Mom and looking glad

The Christmas tree was standing tall; bubbling candles string of lights
Seven piles of presents scattered there, awaiting the kids asleep at night
Johnny and Jimmy in the next door room; brother, Tommy in the bunk below
Cathy and Patsy at the end of the hall, baby Jenny rocked in a cradle slow

Snow was covering the mountain top where we had been sledding all that week
No school to keep us busy, the cold adding a redness to our cheek
I could sense my cloak of innocence; I could taste my excitement for the coming day
I still clung onto the Santa myth – the year before it slipped away

Johnny was so small for his age, but played sports with the best of them
Jimmy already had his art hanging up all around the family den
Cathy still slept with her baby dolls; Tommy stood smaller than me
Patsy wore her tom-boy smile; we all took care of little baby Jenny

A tear came to my eye just then, realizing soon I would be back in the present time
And this scene from forty-five years ago is just a memory lost inside of my mind
Then I realized that tomorrow morning will paint a memory for our youngest son
And a smile lit up my face again as I said, “Goodbye” to everyone

Johnny is now a Grandfather and respected Doctor in his trade
Jimmy left us far too young but a difference he really made
Cathy is taking care of Mom who, in turn, takes care of her
Tommy takes care of everyone and is full of life and character

Patsy still wears her tom-boy smile – the best athlete of the bunch
Jenny is the pride of all of us – I kind of had that as a hunch
And Dad is now a few years gone, though I still talk to him every day
Feeling the love I saw in his eyes when I was ten years old that Christmas Day


Details | Dodoitsu | |

OUR YULE IMAGINATION

A season ago we stood
in this spot where the pine grove
was greener than the thick grass,
we looked above and saw stars.


Then was a starlit August,
a month all lovers adore,
but returning in December...
the pine grove had turned white.


Ah! No longer we could spread 
our blanket and dream as kids!
Ah! No longer the stars would
gather and shed light on us!  


And since not one pine tree was
adorned with lights, an idea
sparked our Yule imagination:
to put a star on all of them!




Entered in Russell Sivey's contest,
" Natural Dodoitsu "
Written  by Andrew Crisci on 12/26/12