Behind the bars of winter time,
old Christmas Carols weep.
I miss the memories of season’s past,
both far and wide and deep.
Long ago there was a tinsel tree
with a spinning light beneath.
The blue and green and red,
would glow upon each tinsel leaf.
And then the powder white,
as if to snow within the house.
The joy as I unwrapped
each toy, each book, and blouse.
Such an important role,
the designated giver,
to hand out gifts to family.
I thought it would last forever.
Slowly we drifted,
as snow upon fenced in pastures.
I stayed, as if in waiting,
to return to those long lost pleasures.
The meaning of the holiday,
I question more this year.
To all of my loved ones,
I truly wish that you were here.