Christmas Mourning
Her loved tree trembled; red drops spilled
that Christmas morning she was killed.
The daughter they would not see grow
left crimson blossoms on the snow.
What horror that their girl could be
slain senselessly beneath that tree
where every spring she loved to go
and blossoms fell, but not on snow.
The tree of which she’d grown so fond
dropped pearl white petals on a pond.
They mourn and think of long ago
before red blossoms fell on snow!
Her loved tree trembled; red drops spilled
like cherry blossoms on the snow.
Nov. 27, 2018
For the "Christmas Mourning" Poetry Contest of P.S. AWTRY
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2018
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