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Christmas Memory Poems | Memory Poems About Christmas

These Christmas Memory poems are examples of Memory poems about Christmas. 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 |

Hot Melted Christmas

Twas the week before Christmas, 
 And all through Wyoming. 
 I was looking for another way, 
 To greet all my homies. 

 I in my jacket. 
 Ma, in sub-zero, 
 We drove to the local sandwich shop, 
 For a hot melted hero. 

 Two for the road, 
 I exclaimed to the gal. 
 Make it snappy, 
 Before Ma gives me hell. 

 We were back on the road. 
 Quicker than quick, 
 Then Ma yelled, STOP! 
 They forgot the Garlic. 

 So back to shop, 
 We rushed right away. 
 Only to find, 
 They done closed for the day. 

 Well, need be I say, 
 Ma was more than a little upset. 
 So she wrote "You A$$H@les" on the window, 
 With her hot melted wreck. 

 I watched Ma kicking and screaming, 
 as the officers dragged her away. 
 So I waved and I shouted, 
 "They say you'll get out, on New Year's day. 

Guess you won't be needing that Christmas present? 

I'll exchange it for ya. 

Love ya Ma."


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 |

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 | 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 | 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 | Free verse |

The Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree



My greatest memory was in 1996 when my son who was three years old at the time was taking out our first Christmas tree to stop me from feeling sad.  He saw my tears coming down like rain over the fact we had no place visit for the holiday. My heart was so broken, wishing he had all that he deserved.  The domestic violent shelters we just came out of traumatized us in our journey of trying to find a home. Home was planned to be a place for us to heal and make our lives happen in a healthy lifestyle. When I looked into his eyes pleading with me to put up the tree I knew I just had to. So much sadness stood there in his eyes yet he stopped his tears for me. We put up the tree that day and before I knew it our sadness seemed to be a distant memory and today I am grateful for God for giving me the greatest gift a mother could ever ask for; the love given back to me from my own child.  Sadly he’s in jail today for making bad decisions, so worried about his safety I had to turn him in; though he thanks me that I saved his life. He said that he accepted Jesus into his life and if it wasn’t for me he would probably be dead on the streets somewhere by now. Still today, no matter how many miles apart we are together, I always reflect on that little boy who pushed a heavy Christmas tree out of the closet to cheer his mother up and how such a strong bond between mother and son was born to save each other through eternal love. 


Contest:  A Fond Memories
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
11/27/2012


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