TAKING DOWN THE TREE
There is a little bit of sadness when we take down the tree,
For those dancing, flickering, pretty lights we’ll no longer see,
The lovely decorations gone to rest for almost another year,
With the putting away, though, we save memories most dear.

All the family together around the Christmas tree so bright,
As we get older we wonder if again we’ll see such a sight,
Loved ones around the table eating and laughing together,
Talking about everything and especially the mild weather.

The fire blazed out it’s comfort, after the dishes were done,
We all managed to get together and chat and have some fun,
Next Christmas when the tree and lights come out once more,
I wonder how many may enter through our welcoming front door?

Yes there is always a little sadness when we take down the tree,
But the happy memories stay, although no pretty lights we see,
Thinking back over the years and Christmas memories unfold,
Many wonderful, and joy filled stories could be often told.

Then as I wrote this poem I wonder how many are written down,
They will be lost and gone when we die I thought with a frown.
No silly stories that make all laugh, or those that make you cry,
What will become of them when we fade away like a sad sigh.

A new year resolution I make right now, each tale I will write,
Maybe make a book of Christmas past and gone, I might,
For I think it would be a legacy for generations yet to come,
And I’ll complete a thousand poems this too will get done.

I’ll ask my husband to do the same, stories when he was young,
They things he did, where his Christmas stocking was hung,
Christmases quite sad and alone or those with a family gathering,
Then after we are gone think how much joy will the book bring

(Millicent) Ann Margetson January 4, 2004