Sunday, December 23, 2007

The last Christmas Eve,

That eve she came, it was her last
still visible inside her shell
Disheveled, wrinkled, not the past
still loving and dear you could tell
Bearing the gifts she'd leave behind
wrapped in white tissue and ready
Her once taut skin was now all lined
her hands held out were unsteady
The gifts she gave, were once her cache
of glitter that she had been given
Back to us came, her treasured stash
that she would not need in heaven
She feared that she must soon take leave
of her life we all loved so dear
Days that took her so long to weave
would be gone in less than a year
We did not want to take her things
this could not be hap'ning today
How could we care about her rings
this time when we just craved her stay
No matter what, we dreamt or felt
her course was already plotted
The time it took, for her to melt
was less than had been allotted
This time each year, I always feel
despair for what no one could change
The days that did then, lose their zeal
remain and are no longer strange
Merry Christmas Mom


paisley said...

this is so perfect.. i want to believe they know....

Linda said...

A beautiful remembrance!

tumblewords said...

Superb post!