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Posts Tagged ‘oranges’

    CHRISTMAS PAST

 

If I could journey back in time

To Christmas of my past,

I’d gather up the happiness

And hold it very fast.

 

We didn’t have a lot back then,

But we were unaware

That others had more than us,

For we had much to share.

 

Each Christmas was a busy time

With many things to do,

And I look back in fondness,

Remembering just a few:

 

Making stars and paper chains

To compliment our tree,

Checking out our window panes

For frost etched tracery,

 

Hanging bread and suet balls

On branches that were bare,

Watching snowflakes coat the trees

As birds sought shelter there,

 

Running out,, all bundled up,

Enjoying winter’s gifts,

Snow-angels made by each of us,

And sliding down big drifts.

 

We’d all go in, after fun,

And have a special treat –

Hot cocoa near the old wood stove,

While warming hands and feet.

 

Beautiful carols filled the air,

Prompting us to sing.

There were gifts in colored tissue,

Tied with cotton string.

 

Mama’s words as she kissed us

And hugged us very tight,

“You’ve all been such good children,

Santa will come tonight.”

 

Then snuggling down under quilts,

Listening for Santa’s sleigh,

And drifting off in dream-filled sleep

‘Til early Christmas day.

 

Awaking to threadbare stockings,

Stirring children’s joy …

Filled with oranges, candy, and nuts,

And a small ten-cent toy.

 

Under the tree, for Sis and I,

Were dolls that Mama dressed.

Each piece of clothing sewn by hand,

Then each piece neatly pressed.

 

Big brother received a nice game

And strings for his guitar.

Little brother got marbles

And a cast iron car.

 

We could ask for no improvement

Of such heart-warming joy,

For we were more than satisfied

With candy and a toy.

 

If I could paint such memories

To help make them last,

I’d view them with a little smile

Each time that I walked past.

 

 

12/18/89      Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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JUST ONE OF THOSE MORNINGS

 

It was just one of those mornings

When nothing would go right

The alarm failed to awaken me

And I looked an awful sight

 

Preparing oranges for some juice

I got a nasty cut

I dropped the eggs, slipped in the mess

And landed on my butt

 

My slippers flew, the dog grabbed one

And ripped the thing to bits

The toast was burned, the bacon, too

My pancakes were the pits

 

The newscast promised sunshine

Of course, it’s raining hard

My paper is a soggy mess

Out in my big front yard

 

My husband peeked around the door

And asked with a grin

“How come you’re up so early, Dear?

It’s your day to sleep in.”

 

 

3/9/00 – Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck

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