Emile Pinet Poet Sonnet

Christmas Memories

Christmas, as I recall, felt magical;
happily hanging up our empty socks.
Under the Christmas tree, where piles of gifts,
and we'd try to guess what was in each box.

Our entire house would smell of gingerbread,
pumpkin pies, cookies, and sweet-scented pine.
Waking to the smell of Christmas turkey,
we'd open our gifts: I'd rip open mine.

While Mom was busy preparing dinner,
Dad would take a nap on the Chesterfield.
Christmas carols played on the radio,
and home did not feel like a battlefield.

These precious moments in time tend to last,
childhood memories of a Christmas past.

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Line Gauthier May 31, 2018 at 1:14 PM Wow love the way you so casually threw in the line "and home didn't feel like a battlefield." Well done, Emile. Emile Pinet June 1, 2018 at 9:03 AM Thanks Line, I appreciate your comments my friend, Emile.

Anna Hopper December 6, 2017 at 7:30 AM As always, lovely poem. Nice little journey to the past Emile Pinet December 6, 2017 at 8:42 AM Thanks so much Anna, and a Merry Christmas to you and yours my friend, Emile.

Anne-Lise Andresen December 5, 2017 at 2:33 PM - A typical and well-known Christmas ...... mom is working hard for a perfect dinner :) - Luck in the contest, Emile :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :) Emile Pinet December 5, 2017 at 2:37 PM Thanks Anne-Lise, and a Merry Christmas to you my friend, Emile.