Oh, For Days of Christmas Old
Springtime had but passed us by
in that blink of an eye long gone;
Summer was a memory
that's now forgotten in Fall's song.
I can't recall taking the journey
which brought us to this place so far,
Yet still there are the stories
hidden under the cookie jar.
The mantel piece holds pictures
that had been colored in by hands,
Their names have long since faded
into the dust of arid lands.
Laughter echoed down the hall,
was once from festive days gone by;
Still no one's been seen for years,
now fewer know the reasons why.
Tinsel hangs like curtains torn,
children's toys remain by the tree;
Twisted candles line the shelf
built in another century.
Stars lay broken on the floor,
there's no sparkling lights to behold;
Collection plates been emptied
quick of the silver coins and gold.
Memories move hauntingly
through all those times few ever know;
We but close the eyes and dream
of children's footprints in fresh snow.
The first of robins will appear,
the burning fires will soon grow cold;
We'll wake beyond winter's sleep
and wish for days of Christmas old.
Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2016