Again

Those blinking fairy lights The sugar coated treats, The smell of baked cookies, And the little gummy bears. The pillows puffed up, The magazines faned out, The TV screen clean, And the remote not missing. Mugs of hot chocolate, Waiting to be served , And the sound of the oven, Beeping in the kitchen. Napkins folded in swan, Matching the brown of the couch. There are potatoes mashed, And chicken cooked, A little ham, a little yam, A glass of warm milk, And orange juice if you please! There is chocolate for the kids, Rum for you and me, The room’s a little warm , There is snow on the windowsill, And an old frail mother, Sitting in an armchair, Looking at the door with longing eyes, Eyes that say, Come home son , It’s Christmas again , The 17th one they say, Since the day you walked away.