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Christmas tells me to come home
And meet you in that old little hut
Where we used to throw at each other
Sticky ice cream cones.
Christmas reminds me of old days
Of songs that faded away
Of tale we used to tell
Under that crooked coconut tree.
Christmas lets me feel your soft touch
That warms my chilly hands.
It speaks to me of our laughter
Over not so funny jokes I remember.
Christmas speaks to me in the silence of my heart
About how the lessons I learned in my childhood
Have held in mye a big part
Of what I understand now in my manhood
What it means to have lived as a child.
Copyright © Marigrace Carretero