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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


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  1. Date: 10/3/2016 8:12:00 AM

    Hey Daniel! Love the poem! If I could Suggest maybe just changing the title up to something more fitting of the story I thought it would be based more around Christmas. Just a suggestion, Keep writing!! -Malaki