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"When festive seasons come, I can't but slip into memories of the time I lived with my parents making me feel that unlike photographs, memories never fade and into their faces framed and hung on my mind's wall, I always peer."~ By Poet Once again Christmas is here, the merry Christmas time, When the church bells at midnight sweetly chime I see streets and houses with Christmas stars adorn, To receive infant Jesus, who in human form was born. As Christmas has come, I think of the vanished bliss, Of the days when life moved like a gentle wind with a sweet hiss, And for us kids, with no trace of sorrow, it was all fun. A time when we got love, care, and attention in ton. Of those days, what all sweet memories I still can weave. All our dear ones from far and wide used to gather on Christmas eve. My mother would be busy cooking the Christmas meal. The aroma of cakes being baked, even from far we could feel. Though there were no presents under the tree to be opened And no fanfare as of now, we were all gladdened, By a pair of new dress for each to be worn to church Over which my siblings and I were excited so much In new dress, it was bliss walking with our parents along the street, For the midnight mass, unmindful of the pain on our feet. Now as Dad and Mom are gone, all I can do for them is to pray, And remember with a thankful heart their love, I can never repay. Festive occasions spark such nostalgia that I always crave for, The warmth I got as a child from my parents who are no more. When I think of my siblings scattered in places, out of reach, A lump forms in my throat that leaves me numb without speech. Our home had been such a beautiful place where there was only light. And the sweet faces of my dear ones for ever stay in me so bright. As waves of memories from the past relentlessly throw back and retreat, Blood calls to blood and their echoes beat hard on the walls of my heart.
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