Coming Home For Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas before I got home,
it took a train, bus, and taxi in falling snow;
and how that bus on the road did sway and roam,
while the wild snow and wind did howl, roar and blow.
It began in northern Ontario on a train,
and it was wonderful gliding through forests frozen;
then, onto a bus that wandered from lane to lane,
my wish to get home for Christmas seemed ill-chosen.
Then, somehow we arrived to my city in an icy snowstorm,
slipping and sliding- I ventured outside snow blind;
and got a taxi with a driver that was barely a life form,
but, when I saw home such lovely thoughts twined.
The driveway was a hill- now all ice and snow covered,
I started up and would just slip back down again and again;
so, crawling on my knees was the best way I discovered,
finally, I made it to the porch and front door- amen.
I entered like I had walked all the way from the north,
so, cold I shivered for an hour in front of the fire place;
but, I made it and how happy was my mom's face,
we kissed again, again and again- back and forth.
________________________
December 04, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Coming Home For Christmas
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1506-612-04
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, The Night Before 3
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 12/23/2022
First Place
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
