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