In every proud Victorian home
There was a tree ablaze in light
Bedecked with gold and garland strands
to celebrate on Christmas night.
Again in times close to our own
In every decent Christian home
A little creche gained in favor
to celebrate our infant savior.
The years speed past for you and me
I think back half a century
To when I was a tiny child
agog at my first Christmas tree.
Among the decorations there
Six small orbs of hand blown glass
From Mom and Dad’s first Christmas tree
They were a precious legacy.
That home is but a memory, true
From those six orbs we have lost two
From other hearths now trees arise
to sparkle in our children’s eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful evocative description of the transience of time and the wonder of children at Christmas time - Im sure the two of the six orbs that you have lost are shining even more brightly in heaven than they did on this earth. Thank you for sharing this with me. your friend, Ruth: -)