Letter: A Christmas poem
The holidays are on the way / The end of another year / While running out of shopping days / We’re searching for Christmas cheer.
The season brings back memories / Of warm and loving times / Of family and Christmas trees / And Poppa’s laughing eyes.
If I could venture back in time / My Christmas wish would be / To be again a boy of 9 / And sit on Poppa’s knee.
Like Emily in Thornton’s play / I’d cherish those I love / The family that molded me / And now watch from above.
Watching the little ones push and shove / To meet Aunt Nora’s cab / The presents for her “little loves” / In all her Macy’s bags.
I’d place her presents round the tree / As she’d race to the bathroom upstairs / In moments she’d sip her Tetley tea / Her laughter sweetening the air.
And soon I’d look across the street / See an old familiar car / Then Lucky’s tail would start to beat / For Pop Pop and Grandma.
To smell my Pop Pop’s pipe of course / Would be a treat for me / Or to hear all about the lucky horse / He won on at O.T.B.
He never was the nervous type / He didn’t sport much hair / With Grandma, Blackie and his pipe / He didn’t have a care.
A wish like this on Christmas Day / Would make me very glad / To sit and watch the Giants play / Just me and my wonderful dad.
We’d sip on some cider or maybe eggnog / As the turkey filled the air / Then Poppa would probably trip on the dog / Giving Momma a terrible scare.
What I wouldn’t give to see the sweet face / Of Momma by her chair / Solemnly leading us all in grace / Before the great feast was shared.
With Poppa to the left of me / And Dad upon my right / Each member of my family tree / Alive and within sight.
While I’d love to be that child again / For one more Christmas Eve / And sit among these treasured friends / Before they had to leave.
I know that realistically / You cannot turn back time / But I can go back magically / Touch base with special times.
The key is loving memories / I cherish in my mind.
Owen O’Farrell
Carbondale
