Christmas Nostalgia Poems | Christmas Poems About Nostalgia

These Christmas Nostalgia poems are examples of Christmas poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Christmas Nostalgia poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

A Christmas Snow

It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.

I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.

Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.

Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.

My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |


As Christmas beckons with season of cheer I recall how we met, a hallway outside Year Nineteen-Eighty in a film's premiere; Offering your neck- scarf, we gently smiled. Flurries drifted while in haste I agreed, Invite for tea as we watched the moon fade 'Till season’s next, nuptial joy pealed At 25, a mistletoe crocheted. Tonight, the lights reflect your willow eyes Bestowing grace from Magi stars above Flashback of theme songs yearns for unity; Enduring a year of departed love. The holidays cloak time; you hum my name From spring's past budding to December’s snow, Alone, I toast reveries etched on life’s acclaim Kisses missed from my long- gone mistletoe. Kelly Deschler's Christmas Past, Present or Future ~based on my aunt's experience 1/03/2015

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

A Child's Christmas Carol

Then, it was a time of true magic,
when the world was small and soft.

It had to be magic, my mind of five
told me:how else could my brothers
and I go to sleep on an ordinary,
dull and quiet night, to awaken in
sheer joy the next morn as though
we had been zapped by a warm
bolt of harmless lightning, setting 
our now restless bodies tingling...
like racehorses at the gate of magic,
we stood at the top of the stairs,
pulling at whatever patience we 
could muster under the admonitions
of Mom and Dad to wait!, wait! the
camera must be loaded-- but how
painful to be still when we knew
children's paradise was only a 
stairway away-- and what a
paradise we saw unfolded in 
our now unfamiliar living room!

The tree drew our eyes first--
it was big and fat, with its 
branches sagging under all
its myriad ornaments: glass
balls, plastic candy canes,
tinsel drooping as though it
hung on a weeping willow
and not a proud Blue Spruce.
And millions and millions of
colored lights, some blinking,
some staid, made our tree
sparkle like the royal crown
of a giant king-- perhaps 
the King of Toys, for they
were seen in abundance 
wherever we looked: trucks
and bikes, bats and games.
Each brother had his own pile
(we marveled how thoughtful
Santa must be) and we knew
in each pile there were boxes
beautifully wrapped but sans
treasure, holding only socks
or shirts, perhaps a sweater--
well, even the jolly fat man 
could not be perfect-- still,
he brought magic to our dull
house every year, overnight 
transforming our prosaic lives
by wonder, by magic, by love.

And when he went away, 
when I was an ancient six,
the world grew much bigger
but colder, dull and empty
of that special joy that 
can only come to those
children who believe....   

Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Your Eternal Flame

During the Christmas holidays a candle is continuously lit.
       It is in your memory to let you know I'll never forget.
Each year that passes gets harder than I like to admit.
       I sit by the fire reminiscing while I smoke a midnight cigarette.
Your vanilla scented candle burns on the coffee table.
       I admit when you passed I wasn't mentally stable.
You would be proud of me because eventually I pulled myself together.
       I remember you warned me so many times you wouldn't be here forever.
You were my superwoman, I believed you were tough as steel.
       This candle along with your memory helps me to heal.
It's kinda like you're right here with me.
       I think of you as I put each ornament on the Christmas tree.
Tears roll down my cheek as I whisper your sweet name.
       Inside my heart resides your eternal flame.

*I love you momma Merry Christmas Queen.....
Billie Jean Alexander Lopez...May 1, 1937 - July 26, 2007

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

Old Fashioned Christmas

The snow fell gently on a quiet street
Neighbors walked in without knocking
There was a feeling of joy in the air
As each child hung up their stocking

There was a coal fire in the heatrola
Which took a little while to start
O Come All Ye Faithful on the radio
And a warmth radiating from each heart

The kids all went to bed early
Couldn't sleep until early morn
Waiting for presents from Santa
And to celebrate the day Christ was born.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006

Details | Crystalline |


Along narrow streets,carol singing
Boxes rattling,lanterns swinging

A stocking hung for Santa to fill
waking too early was a thrill

Chicken killed as a special treat
Finding  three-penny piece in our sweet

In England ,in our area at least this has not changed much in 60+ years
the 'chicken' maybe a turkey or a piece of beef even,the thtree-penny pieces are now 5p's
There is still street carol singing,albeit now for charity.

Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme |

My Thunderous Wondrous Electric Toy Train

It was shiny and bright sitting under the tree.
There were other things there, but that's all I could see:
a Lionel toy train on a circular track!
The caboose was maroon and the engine was black.

And to top it all off on this fine Christmas day,
was an engineer's cap that I donned right away.
I had deadlines to make and my job couldn't shirk,
so I rolled up my sleeves, and went straight to my work.

Utilizing impressive construction techniques,
I made Tinker Toy tunnels through newspaper peaks.
With an engine, a caboose, and three railroad cars,
I would ride to the moon and haul back the stars!

It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
my thunderous wondrous electric toy train!

And then Daddy and I had to go out for bread,
and to pick up the big Sunday paper he read.
We're just about home when there was flashing of red...
and the crossbars dipped down at the railroad ahead.

As the freight train slowed up, I could clearly divine
the big engineer's head with a cap just like mine!
We dismounted and yelled, and I signed him three yanks.
He gave me three toots - and I waved back my thanks.

With my engineer's cap and my blue overalls,
I was dressed in a style to give anyone pause!
I had grand places to go and marvels to see...
but Mommy had my breakfast all ready for me.

It sputtered and sparkled and went round and around
with a clickety clackety sonorous sound,
and an oily ozony odoriferous tang:
my thunderous wondrous electric toy train!

Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |

A Red Christmas Bike

It had been two days since Christmas
The one where the fates had granted me my fondest wish
A shiny, red, Schwinn bicycle..... a basket in the front, and a bell to ring

On that cold December night, the sky was stained by the color of trepidation
I remember my young mother leaving her warm bed at three in the morning
rousing us all with calm haste

Deep red reflections seeped through the mud-splashed window screens
as she shooed us downstairs, down the raw-grained stairs, 
not tying her robe, pushing from behind with her two hands
out onto the back porch, into the frost of the wee, early light
Then, we stood and watched the fire from a safe distance, 
as it consumed our garage.  And, my bike.

From the frame of the doorway, and the top step's narrow slat
she enveloped me in her folds of chenille to keep me from shivering.
The cool of her hand on my shoulders,
watching my dad in his attempt with a hose
warning him to keep safe,
while sounds of sirens wailed in the distance

When I looked up into her face, with anxious eyes
I remember her soft, reassuring voice 
"Hush now, don't cry"
"We'll find another one, just like it"

Then, I remember looking down, at her bare feet
turning blue in the cold


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

My Memories Of Christmas

Hearing the jingling bells of Santa's sleigh,
Hanging silver tinsel on the tree for trim,
My cousin and I going sledding all day,
Reading the story of Scrooge and Tiny Tim.

Building a house made of spicy gingerbread,
And hearing a Bing Crosby Christmas tune,
Leaving out cookies before going to bed,
Seeing eight tiny reindeer flying by the moon.

Santa Claus bringing toys down our chimney,
Almost every house twinkling with lights,
Cutting down a fresh, pine Christmas tree,
Hanging antique ornaments, so shiny and bright.

Grandma and I baking my favorite cookies,
Shopping for Christmas gifts in every store,
A fireplace with a stocking hung just for me,
And singing Christmas carols at every door.

My hometown covered in glistening, white snow,
And the sweet, minty taste of a candy cane,
Presents containing treasures we wouldn't know,
And drawing snowflakes on a frosty window pane.

My Mom making a snowman, as perfect as can be,
Decking the halls with garlands, wreaths and more,
Whispering wishes to Santa, sitting on his knee,
And the excitement we all had the night before.

December 12th, 2013

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Christmas Kisses

A pristine gown of drifted snow,
the first since seasons past,
infused with subtle dawn-like glow
from mirrored moonlight cast.
A stillness falls upon the night,
encased in frosty breath so light,         
     a stillness falls
          a stillness falls
throughout a land of silent white.
Untainted gowns of drifted snow…
lost summers, turned to rust, 
now lie at rest beneath a throw
of powdered diamond dust.
Fragmented dreams and edelweiss,
a frozen twist of winter spice,
     fragmented dreams
          fragmented dreams
sweet memories cocooned in ice.
Soft flakes of gently drifting snow
float idly to the ground,
and as they twirl new yearnings grow
with fears and hopes abound.
A tender kiss, caressing hands,
fresh mistletoe and tinsel strands,
     a tender kiss
          a tender kiss
and time-suspended shifting sands.

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |

A Homeless Man's Christmas Wish

Christmas day is coming soon
I can hear the little drummer boys beat 
As I sleep under a stack of newspapers
At my home here on the street
I have no shade from the summer heat
No shelter from a spring storm
When autumn and winter roll around
I have no blanket to keep me warm
I have no one to talk to 
No doctor to keep me well
My life is like the seventh circle
Of an everlasting hell
I have no feast on Thanksgiving
On my birthday, I have no cake
Most nights as I sleep in my concrete bed
I pray and hope I won't wake
I think about the man I used to be
The one that died so long ago
Now all that's left is this scruffy, filthy creature
Who I don't even know
Now that Christmas is here again
I pray to the good Lord above
For a gift that most don't appreciate 
Filled with lots of happiness and love
I'm not talking about material things
I can get by without any of that
All I want is a house and a family
Complete with a dog and  a cat
I wish every single Christmas season
That my dear, sweet Lord would send me
A beautiful family with warm, smiling faces
Sipping hot chocolate around a Christmas tree
We would have a most amazing feast
A rack of lamb tied up with a bow
Then we would all get bundled up
And go caroling in the snow
Oh, how glorious that would be
To have a family and a few friends
To have people who love me
Even after this life ends
God please hear my prayers
And answer them if you can
Just grant one simple Christmas wish
To this old homeless man

Copyright © Abby Lovern | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |

A Christmas Memory

The year we lost him in November, December's yuletide came too soon. Christmas songs seemed out of tune, leaving dimmer skies and cold winds blowing But, the next year passed, as seasons do, and days, .. alas, .. without our knowing,... from the darkness of the year before, another light was somehow growing --------------------------------------------------------------------- 11/22/15 For Contest: A Christmas Memory Sponsor: Broken Wings

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


The Hush of Christmas Past

It came more slowly then.
After Thanksgiving
the lights and decorations
started showing up.
The excitement started to build.
Santa showed up at the
department store,  The
ads in the newspapers
were larger, some even
in color.  There was talk of
“the list”, and “naughty or nice”.
It was agonizing – waiting for
the night Mom said “OK, let’s
go buy the tree”.  The trip to
the back lot behind the
super market, “This one…
NO! THIS ONE!”  We carried
the tree - by any means possible -
remembering Mom’s warning:
“Remember, you will have to
carry that big tree home.”
The tree was somehow decorated.
Lights, tinsel, bulbs, each one someone’s
favorite, ribbons, bows, a picture
of the cat.  Now the speculation
began in earnest.  “Whadaya
think you’re gonna get?”.  “OH,
I hope, I hope, I hope”, “But I can’t
tell you, it’s a secret.”  We knew there
would probably be sox, some new
PJ’s, mittens – the usual.  But there
would also be those other nicely
wrapped gifts – from Santa.
The baseball glove, the skates,
the “un-wrapable” scooters, bikes,
baseball bats, hockey sticks.
These were always brought by
Santa Clause.  Santa supplied the
dreams, Mom and Dad the gifts.
We provided the unmistakable
sounds of Christmas morning.

There would be church and a
Christmas dinner, lost amid the
joy of dreams.  Dreams of snagging
that line drive with the new baseball
glove, of racing down the hill on
the bike, of Bobby Orr like moves
with the new skates.

The colored lights took their cue
from the setting sun as we gathered
around the table and savored the
sweet, juicy, succulence of Mom’s -
never to be equaled – Apple Pie.

John G. Lawless

submitted to HUSH OF CHRISTMAS PAST – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Mystic Rose

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014

Details | Kyrielle |

The Christmas Stockings

Children far too young to realize 
That  some things in life you should prize
We had no jobs and no takings
Bare were the Christmas stockings

Scrounging colourful material 
Lace, chintz and chiffon ethereal 
Ribbons included in the making
A show for the Christmas stockings

Balls of red and green and scrap yarn
Imaginary faces darn’
On beautiful princess and kings
Displayed in the Christmas stockings

Plywood and some leftover paint
Canopy bed fit for a saint
Pea under mattress, her liking
Endured for the Christmas stockings

A penguin made of black felt
A hobgoblin with a scarlet belt
‘Gold’  jewellery box,  flaking
Accepted for the Christmas stockings

Coconut ice cut into stars
Liquorice plaited into bars
Brownies and tarts kept me baking
Produced for the Christmas stockings

My daughter was five that year
Son’s smiles, laughter brought a tear
After all this time – despite mocking
Treasuring the Christmas stockings

Grandchildren, by the Grace of God
Who, I pray, shall all be well shod
Now, material gathered for the making
Of the future Christmas stockings


We celebrate the summer solstice over here and the only thing we have in common with our northern hemisphere counterparts is the traditional Christmas stockings. Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. 

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Christmas Morning

Sting of cold tiles against tiny toes -
Hop, shiver, skip! Down the stairs she goes 
With that misplaced halo 
Of snow-blonde hair 
And a chest full of glee.  
She almost forgets 
Not to land on the third step - 
The one that always creaks 
(And makes it so hard to sneak
Through the dark, quiet house). 
On chilled tip-toes, she creeps.
Around the corner, she peeks,
Spying magical things.
The tree glitters and glimmers
Above full stockings 
And gift-wrapped miracles.
She stares with wide eyes 
Until the sun stirs in the sky.   
Her mother finds her asleep
Beneath the Christmas tree. 

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

What is Christmas Really About

Quickly is coming Christmas day,
Perhaps you ponder with dismay
Amidst the shopping and the shouts,
What is Christmas really about?
Is it about reindeer and elves,
The gifts we wish for ourselves?
Is it about wrapping paper and bows,
Stockings stuffed with goodies clear to the toes?

Is it about family, friends, and feast,
The smell of bread baking rising with yeast?
About trees, lights, and cute decorations,
Parties, eggnog, and celebrations?

These commodities make the holiday bright,
But something else is required to make it right;
For Christmas is not about programs and costumes worn,
But about a miraculous baby that was born.

About Mary and Joseph, man and wife,
Who came to Bethlehem pregnant with life.
No room was left for them in the inn,
Shelter was found in a cattle pen.

The time of her delivery would not waiver,
In that stable she experienced labor.
Born into a place smelling of manure,
Christ arrived our salvation to assure.

Nearby shepherds tending flocks by night
Were startled by a glorious light.
Angels while seeking to calm their fear
Came proclaiming this event of cheer.

Told of a birth of a baby boy,
A king, a savior, who would bring joy.
His mission was one of peace,
From our sins to bring release.

Then with haste they went with glee,
Marveled at what they did see;
Found him in a manger yet filled with glory
Then left with excitement to tell his story.

So as we gather this December
May this jingle help us remember,
Christmas is not about dear old Santa Claus
But about the Christ who saves us from our flaws.

Copyright © Brent Cloyd | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Christmas Then and Now

Christmas – Then and Now

Back then in the Midwest
On a cool, crisp Christmas morn
We’d all celebrate the day
That Jesus Christ was born
Sure we all love dear old Santa
And the toys that he brings
But that day really still belonged
To the mighty King of Kings
We’d dress up in our finest
Then it’s off to church for us
To honor our Lord Jesus
For it’s in God we trust

But something’s happened since then
The feeling’s not the same
They’ve taken Christ from Christmas
They don’t want to hear his name
They say that all us Christians
Should just back off a bit
And convert to “Season’s Greetings”
And let Christ be done with it
Why can’t they just acknowledge
I mean, it stands to reason
If it wasn’t for us Christians
There’d be no Christmas Season


Copyright © mike dailey | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

PROGRESS- Christmas Toys and Joys


The toys in the shops today are different from the past,
with electronics replacing bat and ball.
Even parents get in the mix, and children need be fast,
if they want to play with their new toys at all.
Back-yard cricket is forgotten when the Wii comes on the scene.
Virtual sports replace the games we know.
Invisible balls are slashed at when hit towards the screen
and a cartoon rival hits it back to you.

These rivals in the TV Box will play with you alone,
or you can play with a friend by your side.
Sometimes a couch potato gets up to play and groan,
but keen to join the game with a swing that’s wide.

The DS, Xbox and the PSP keep everyone amused
with puzzles for the brains of young and old.
There’s Pokemon and Mario forever been renewed,
played with concentration; fingers quick and bold.

But the games are put aside when we are called to table;
no fast food today it’s Christmas fare for all.
There’s turkey, pudding, pies and cakes to eat if we are able,
then we often fall asleep on the lounge, or in the hall.

But lives, when shared with others are better for the sharing,
with memories created and sent across the miles.
These keep us going when we feel alone, with no one caring,
then we see their photos; remember friendships and we smile.


Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |

Christmas Nostalgia

                       I was thinking of Christmas the other day,
   so I went to my storage room to find the boxes of decorations;
that had been my mother's and grandmother's once,
once upon a time, when everything in my life was good.
   I carried them to my living room and set them on the floor,
                       with a sigh, I opened those boxes of memories.

                       I carefully took them out and touched them,
   with love, they represented another time, a time of happiness;
I recalled my mother hanging them on the Christmas tree,
and grandma talking to me about her decorations collected.
  Now they are mine, all mine, and they should make me happy,
                       but the opposite is true, they just make me sad.

                       I left them there and went to get a tea,
   I sat there thinking and weeping and then it struck me suddenly;
these were my mothers and grandmothers, I love them but,
it is time for me to have my own Christmas decorations.
   So I picked one from each box to keep as a memory of them,
                      it was hard, but I donated the rest to charity.

                      That very same day I went shopping,
   for Christmas decorations all my own, and found some nice ones;
but those two, I kept are even more meaningful to me now,
they are a memory of those Christmas's before the sorrow.
   But I must say, my decorations are wonderful and beautiful,
                       and I am just loving Christmas this year.

November 24, 2016


For the contest, Nostalgia
Sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron

First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

A Cambridge Lamentation

This place is always a little lonely 
At the noise and life, 
I like solitude, 
But not in places 
Where's there's recently been 
A lot of people.

Reclusiveness protects you 
From nostalgia, 
And you can be as nostalgic 
In relation to what happened 
Half an hour ago 
As half a century ago, in fact more so. 
I went to the Xmas party. 
I danced, 
And generally lived it up. 
I went to bed sad though. 
Discos exacerbate 
My sense of solitude.

My capacity for social warmth, 
Excessive social dependence 
And romantic zeal 
Can be practically deranging; 
It's no wonder I feel the need 
To escape...
Escape from my own 
Drastic social emotivity
And devastating capacity
For loneliness. 
I feel trapped here, 
There's no 
Outlet for my talents.
In such a state as this 
I could fall in love with anyone. 
The night before last 
I went to the ball, 
Couples filing out,  
I wanted to be half of every one,  

But I didn't want to lose ***.  
I'll get over how I feel now, 
And very soon. 
Gradually I'll freeze again, 
Even assuming an extra layer of snow.  
I have to get out of here.

(Adapted from an unfinished and unsent letter penned just before Christmas 1986.)

Copyright © Carl Halling | Year Posted 2015

Details | Kyrielle |

Christmas Me Dear Mandurah

Mandurah, cruises, jingle bells,
The lake house splendor in shooting stars dwell,
Tremendous Christmas without snow, implicitly the stunner glide,
Black phantom unveil the cloak of his clandestine pride,

Scintillation gigantic Casuarina Equisetifolia ornament tree,
Embellish the solitude's dew which endorsed by the clasp of glee,
Dear Christmas Eve, I am your bride,
Let me merry you by the simplicity of thee pride

Author's Note:
Mandurah : Situated on Western Australia's beautiful coastline about 72km 
                south of Perth

5th place
Sponsor	: Cyndi MacMillan

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Christmas delights!

Clouds garland snow capped mountain peak
Icy snow butterflies melt kisses upon my nose
Puffs of warm, moist breath balloons billow out before me,
quickly chilling, disappearing before my eyes
Crunching snow compacts beneath booted feet
Prints set deep, little more than momentary reminder 
of where you have stepped before
Crisp white blanket glints
almost winking it’s Christmas card welcome
as it’s vast white carpet spreads before you beckoning 
All of nature along with everything manmade becomes anew
Nothing seems out of place
A bird lands on branch of tree causing cascade of padded canopy
New mound takes position with little noticed effect on perfect landscape

Children laugh and run as they hurl packed balls at one another
Dashing, darting, ducking and returning rogue ammunition
to offending hand and screams of pleasure
Slipping, falling they tumble over repeatedly 
Waving arms and legs, when finally still to create snow angels
Then, standing up clothed as abominable snowman
Giving rise to fresh ideas as new creation begins with rolling snow
Bigger and bigger they chase and push, packing tight as they go
Another ball a little smaller to place on top of first for head
Then off they scatter in all directions looking to clothe their model
Returning with woollen hat scarf 
carrot and stones to place as eyes nose and mouth with button features
Admiring they know their masterpiece shall be short-lived
For mother nature’s hand will chance to create another slushy muddy puddle

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |

Merry Christmas, Dad

Merry Christmas, Dad
     by Amy Swanson   


    I always think of you
           every day...
              but holidays like this

can make it a little harder.

I hear the Christmas songs of cheer
     see the lights up in the square
           the busy murmurs of people
               shopping for their loved ones...

It seems almost perfect.

The tree, the lights,
      the gifts,
          the songs and plays
              joyful vacation days;

but something's missing.

The voice that rang throughout the house
      Christmas season
            singing triumphantly, beautifullly
                  "O Holy Night"

I still can't listen to that song
    without hearing
         your strong voice
               in my ears.

The hands that wiped my tears,
     wrapped my Christmas presents
           made his special "banana pudding recipe"
                left me letters from Santa.

Oh dad... how I miss you.

I know they say time heals
      and life goes on
          and all those other wonderful cliches
                 that people always tell you

simply because they don't know what else to say.

I will never forget you - my hero, my protector.

I speak of you often
    to my own little girl
         want her to know
              the grandpa she can't meet yet...

the grandpa who would love her so.

Dad, you are always in our hearts and minds,
     I never got to say thank you...
         for everything.
              for helping me to be

the woman I am today.

I look at my reflection in the mirror - I can also see you.
   I sing my songs - and I can also hear you.
       I laugh... and sometimes I can hear your laughter too.
           My daughter smiles at me... and you are in her smile.

I wish that you could know how much
     you've always meant to me
         and all the things that you have done
              to shape my life, so positively...

But all that I can say,
        is this:

Merry Christmas, Dad.

I love you.

Copyright © Amy Swanson | Year Posted 2008

Details | I do not know? |

More than weather, can be frightful or Unseasonal Christmas

Used to be the weather was frightful
People covered themselves from head to toe
Now, despite the fact it’s Christmas season
I see more sand, than I see snow
The temperatures keep on elevating
To the moon, they just seem to rise
Oh, where is the Christmas of yesterday
The rosy cheeks, windows fogged with ice

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Frosty, it seems we’re not gonna see him
Heat miser, now, has gotten his day
Can’t ole Jack Frost do something about this
And chase the warm weather away
No need to chop wood set for burning
The heated air replaces that in the hearth
I hope it gets cold and very soon, too
Because Christmas puts warmth in everyone’s heart

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Oh, when Christmas day finally gets here
Right now, I’ll tell ya, all I wanna see
Are people with scarves and gloves on their hands
And snow bringing life to all barren trees
I want the temps to chill me right to the bone
That’s when I’ll know it’s Christmas time
Who wants to look up and see a sleigh
With a fat man in a speedo, flying around

It’s just too warm now for Christmas
Too hot to shop, too hot to run around
Santa’s working at the pole in a speedo
That’s nothing, we wanna see come to town

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |


       A Christmas Snow

He peered out the window
breath frosting on the glass,
scratched the outline of a Christmas Tree
in the misted snow covering the pane.

It was cold enough, it was due
but the only flakes in the sky
were the shivering solstice stars.
Perhaps it would be a barren Christmas.

There had been other times, cold times,
when the sleds lay idle, the snow man’s
corn cob pipe and button nose
sat faceless in the hat.

He turned from his window gazing,
casting a glance at the Christmas tree,
a little bare in spots, a few lights
hanging on for one more year.

The bulbs all told a story,
the one Billy brought home
on leave from the military,
it became his little brother’s favorite.

Those awful, yet splendidly awesome,
hand made by the children,
not quite ready for the down town tree
sprinkley, sparkley, spectaculars.

He wiped a tear away,
he was alone now
looking out that window – hoping 
for one more Christmas Snow.

John G. Lawless

Not submitted to the contest – unrhymed…

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Christmas In The Forties

The best Christmas gift I receive each year Is love, simply pure sweet affection What could possibly be more cherished than that It's the meaning of Christmas on reflection Too bad this feeling doesn't last the whole year What a joyous world it would be Dream on little fellow, you're a wee bit delusional You're sounding like a nostalgic retiree The world has changed and not for the better It's just a personal opinion I quote Gone are the days of warm Christmas visits Bearing gifts under big overcoats Each generation has it's own treasured memories Today's kids will remember theirs fondly But ask anybody from back in the forties They'll say those were the best, by golly <3 <3 <3 © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

A Christmas Tradition

So many traditions run deep in all of our families, And each holiday calls for a memorable and worthy gathering. At Christmas, one tradition fills our hearts with glee! When caught up in the season of joy; sadness, never harboring! We find that it matters not whether a leaf has fallen from our tree, And sailed on angels' wings to join the celebration above. We reminisce of yesteryears assured their spirits are free... Free from turmoil and chaos; free to taste purest love. High upon the Christmas tree, there, amongst sparkling colored balls; Tucked between precious old ornaments and brilliant, festive lights, Hang these amazing balls of glass; bearing the names of all. They're protected by the extra padded skirt made of satin- red and white Time will not dissolve memories or the love and affection which flows, When kindred spirits, on Christmas morn, gather to hear the sacred story. We’d recall the prudent sayings; simple stories that nurture, still, our souls, While in harmony, young ones and old, celebrate God’s majestic glory! ~*~
Note: For the Contest, "Traditions" 12/11 *Ist Place

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Christmas Nostalgia

Snow is on the ground
Children are getting bored
No television  in those days
Games you played aloud

Snap that was a noisy one
Snakes and ladders made u shout
With either a groan or a yippee
As the counter move about.

Christmas is coming
Five more weeks to go
Time for making decorations
To make the home aglow

First some coloured paper
Cut up into strips
Next the ploy glue pot
Hope the stuff will stick

Lengths and lengths of linked paper
Making the kitchen bright
A load of dust collectors
Said  Mamgu (she was always right).

Then some tree decorations
Lovingly sew felt and string
Into shapes of hearts
Plus other simple things

All this whilst sitting by the radio
A play is being told
Something ghostly and mysterious
listening to the story unfoild

When needing the toilet,  you waited
Cos the toilets werent indoors
Paraffin heater for the pipes
newspaper squares behind the door

These are the days of memories
stored faithfully within
children will you remember
when you had so much fun

Written after a conversation with Shadow

Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle |


The Christmas tree stands alone
But still decorated with lights glowing
The family has come and gone

A misty tear drop with a quiet groan
Remembering the days when they were home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Wanting little ones to come and crawl in zone
Of the blanket, packages, and decorations
The family has come and gone

Leftover food, torn wrap, lights that shone
Guiding them to this warm old home
The Christmas tree stands alone

Dirty dishes, soiled placemats, candles blown
Still longing for them at home
The family has come and gone

Time passes, situations change
The love in my heart remains the same
The Christmas tree stands alone
The family has come and gone

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2009

Details | Dodoitsu |


A season ago we stood
in this spot where the pine grove
was greener than the thick grass,
we looked above and saw stars.

Then was a starlit August,
a month all lovers adore,
but returning in December...
the pine grove had turned white.

Ah! No longer we could spread 
our blanket and dream as kids!
Ah! No longer the stars would
gather and shed light on us!  

And since not one pine tree was
adorned with lights, an idea
sparked our Yule imagination:
to put a star on all of them!

Entered in Russell Sivey's contest,
" Natural Dodoitsu "
Written  by Andrew Crisci on 12/26/12

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2012