Days of My Youth
On Christmas Eve, I dreamt of the days of my youth;
back to when I'd toboggan down snow-covered hills.
And ski, although I wasn't skilled, to tell you the truth:
but that is my recollection of winter thrills.
The fun of caroling, or building a snowman,
was how we kept the Christmas spirit in our hearts.
And yet, today, I am just a foolish old man,
an aged actor, playing insignificant parts.
I woke to a heavy blanket of sticky snow
covering the city in a duvet of white.
And although I'm old, I'd very much like to go
frolicking through the snow on this nostalgic night.
Perfect for igloos, building forts, and snowball fights:
I recall snowdrifts that were over ten feet tall.
And every house was strung with colored Christmas lights:
the magic in the air was felt by one and all.
On Christmas Eve, I dreamt of the days of my youth,
the fun of caroling, or building a snowman.
I woke to a heavy blanket of sticky snow,
perfect for igloos, building forts, and snowball fights.
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.