Memories From Christmases Past
Precious memories from Christmases past,
Forever, in my mind, will last and last.
We’d hang paper chains and balloons from the ceiling,
To give our home a really lovely, Christmassy feeling.
Tinsel, baubles and bells, adorned the Christmas tree,
Which, was lovingly decorated, by my dad and me.
On top of the tree, a heavenly angel would be placed:
Her dress was pure white, and was made of fine lace.
On Christmas morning, quite early, we would all rise,
And be thrilled with the lovely presents before our eyes.
On Christmas afternoon, we would all watch the TV,
And later, in the evening, we’d all enjoy a buffet tea.
We’d always buy crackers, which we all loved to pull,
And we’d eat our Christmas day roast, until, finally, full.
We’d have Christmas pudding, which I, for one, adored,
And over the top of it, we’d have double cream poured.
But when dad died, our Christmases seemed to fall apart,
And now, no longer, is it a special time within my heart.
Now it just seems to be a time of much anxiety and stress,
And, as an adult, I’m beginning to like it less and less.
I often wish that Christmas was still as it used to be,
When dad and I enjoyed decorating the Christmas tree.
As an adult, the years seem to speed by so very fast.
Oh, how I wish for those times of Christmases past!
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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