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We Who’ve Lived Many Christmases

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This one is sad but true to experience for many on holidays, yet hope exists.

Tis time for Christmas, aches and all. We have a stake in a babe’s nativity - swaddled all in God’s creativity. Star-wonder. Moonlight. Crestfallen snow white. Buried beneath happiness are many who have fallen asleep. We must keep up traditions of light, merry and bright. Our teeth must glisten, and our tongues must tell tales, for a new generation to listen. We who’ve lived many Christmases must hang our tears in stockings, decorate our trees with memories. Each generation thinks their gifted something new. The old is regifted. Our eyes sparkle, ever brighter, like Benjamin Button when he’s born old and dies in infanthood. Both sides of a copper penny shine, then the luster subsides, but the soul resides in a Christmas-y place with pearls and lace, streets of pure gold, where nothing gets old. Tis time for Christmas… Hope and all…

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 12/4/2024 7:04:00 PM
An encouragment to many I think- I appreciate this type of poem, "Each generation thinks their gifted something new. The old is regifted." love that
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Kim Rodrigues
Date: 12/5/2024 7:35:00 PM
Thank you, Paige!
Date: 12/4/2024 7:51:00 AM
- Unfortunately, many have to hang the tears in the stockings, Kim - Traditions must be passed down :) - hugs
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Kim Rodrigues
Date: 12/4/2024 11:23:00 AM
Over time, we all do…hugs ~ Kim
Date: 12/3/2024 7:06:00 PM
there still hope in your delicious verses, enjoyed yann
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Kim Rodrigues
Date: 12/3/2024 7:37:00 PM
Thank you, my friend! :)
Date: 12/3/2024 3:57:00 PM
I enjoy the longing for traditions shown in your poem. I sense your joy.
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Kim Rodrigues
Date: 12/3/2024 6:32:00 PM
Thank you, Hilda! :)

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry