Silver frosted ornaments.
Are carefully packed to move,
To a place where there is cheaper rent.
Many Christmases here have been spent.
To reminisce them everyday.
No more trick or treaters known.
To tease in masquerade.
Or sips of eggnog made.
To celebrate Thanksgiving Day.
And it's a mix of fun and gloom,
To move.
And plant fresh memories,
While hanging onto those wished to keep.
It is a mix of fun and gloom,
When it is time to move on.
With those precious holidays to be missed.
Replayed as furnishings are packed away.
Even in the midst of Summer,
One sits with thoughts of holidays.
And who will make more just as great,
To be eventually savored as the best remembered.
And where they were,
Remembered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem