The Ribbon

THE RIBBON The ribbon laid gently, In the old ornament crate; Even amongst the bold colors, It still looked so great! Originally, wrapped around, A banister garland of green, Each year, it adorned, The prettiest decorations, seen! Long enough to fully complete, The journey around the stair, It continued to a table, Made of oak and it's chair; Streaming downward, with a twirl, The red ribbon did flow, Past candle-lit windows, Frosted over in the glow! Trekking over the mantle, With the nativity, spread about, Journeying, like the Wise Men, Who travelled to seek it out! Then, finally, up the fresh Scotch pine; It had come, so very far; The ribbon, tied in a bow, Resting, just beneath the star! Many years had passed; It seemed like yesterday; Yet, I reached forth my hand, To start it, on its way! And, as I wove the ribbon, Those precious memories came, Bringing back, special times, With feelings, just the same! E. Self 2015