General Poetry posted December 1, 2015 Chapters:  ...21 22 -23- 24... 


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Christmas past

A chapter in the book Family 4

Days of Yore

by Barb Hensongispsaca

I still remember days of yore
when season's spirits yonder soared,
and life was simple, presents, too,
instead of twelve, we got just two.

A coat, real warm, with matching hat;
the girls a doll, the boys a bat.
Then came the meal, the best of all.
We'd make the rounds, on friends we'd call.

We'd sing some carols and play some games.
Then homeward bound when late it came,
where Dad would carry us inside.
Our faces in his neck, we'd hide.

We'd say our prayers, and Dad would read
the Christ child's tale with Herod's greed;
and, when to sleep, we would succumb,
we'd dream of cakes and sugar plums.


Christmas Poetry contest entry


Crystal Clear thank you for allowing me to use your perfect picture for my piece.
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