Year end draws nigh
bringing memories to heart's hearth.
Some are embers warm glow;
Others, ashes to be shifted through;
All trance inducing, as the past
flickers and flames in Technicolor--
Frame by frame of elusive times gone by.
Happy times of childhood and family
cuddle with years of loss and despair;
Prosperity’s cellulite spooned against poverty’s emaciation.
One would think the fat times more precious,
yet the small moments of the lean enriched us more.
Those times when we choose simple gifts for others,
and gave only ourselves to each other,
encapsulated rare beauty in the heartache.
It was then the true spirit of Christmas filled us most.
Stripped of all pretense and commercialism,
only love flourished.
Now we sit before the fire
our in between years upon us--
Neither young or old, children almost grown,
yet to be grandparents-- and I long
for a season of simplicity.
One that our children will remember
One to cherish, and teach.
There may not always be money, but
you are never poor if you have love,
for no gift is more valuable than yourself.
Copyright © Jaycee Cervenka | Year Posted 2015