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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A Christmas Story He looks at the cards hung over the fire Suspended in air by the finest of wire One from his wife, his children and friends Christmas he loves and he’s sad when it ends Ceilings are decked with the seasonal trim The tree is all set, baubled to the brim Presents are wrapped, all ready to give It’s that time of year he loves to relive He sits by the tree and a fire lit ball The image reflects of the babe in the stall A donkey is there, the parents look on Surrounded by shepherds and kings in a throng He see’s the whole story, slowly unfold As each in their turn, gives baby a hold And the great star above shines brightly and new And the world is at peace for a moment or two He then see’s the past when his children were young The house full of laughter and carols were sung When visitors called for a glass of best sherry Good cheer was abroad and everyone merry Now the children have grown and live far away No more with new toys will he see them play His wife had passed on, a long time before Each year that passes, he misses her more Then the ball on the tree shows him all alone In the house that was once his family’s home Rolls a tear from his eye, drips from his chin Does somebody, somewhere, still think of him? He leans back in his chair and his eye catches sight Of the cards he hangs there each Christmas night Suspended in air by the finest of wire He looks at the old cards hung over the fire A knock at the door brings him back to life He answers and finds it’s the ghost of his wife “They’re not coming to you, so we’ll go to them” It’s our turn to travel to Bethlehem” From my place on the tree, the room I survey Though he’s still sitting there, he’s on his way To watch over those he loves above all But, he’ll never forget what he saw in this ball.
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