A note about the poem: Elsie is my mother. She loved Christmas Trees; decorating them. She is today 81-years old (written four years ago). She doesnt decorate them any more, but Christmas time, the buying of gifts, the Cards and all seem always to be the best of the year for her; and of course Christs birth. I wrote this poem in December, l982, and it was published on December 16, l982. Now, almost 20-years later, I re-discover it, and share her memories with you. I remember talking to her just prior to creating the poem. I asked her what came to mind. And when I gave it to her, she care for well, keeping a copy in her bedroom drawer.
Part I
It was back in 32
When a paper-doll would do--
Icicles, wooden shoes.
And just about Christmas
Time--I remember--
Id be huddled
With a brother, sister
Friend
On a street corner
Watching fire-engines,
Street--cars, --Racing
Through town--
On cobbles tone streets,
Where children sang songs.
And not far away
Was an orphanage
--I recall--
St. Josephs (in St. Paul):
I spent some time there
After Ma died;
But it never got me down--
Remembering how she loved
Christmas year-round.
O! how I love Christmas time--
With all its beauty and rimes;
With the horse drawn sleighs
And old street lamps,
The Salvation Army
Ringing their chants.
And each Christmas
Id walk with dad
To the market place--
Hauling a Christmas tree
Home that same day;
Dressing it with tinsel,
Bulbs of all kinds.
Listening to the radio,
Playing Christmas chimes.
Part II Elsies Christmas [l982
Its now 82
Times have changed;
More Santas
Are doing their thing.
Artificial Christmas trees
Year round Christmas socks;
More children on skies,
Snowmobiles in the parks;
More toys, T Vs--
Parking lots;
Christmas cards that seem
To talk.
Festivals of merriment,
Ice-fishing on lake
McCarrans;
Ice Castles, Parades --
Not quite the same,
Not --
Quite like 32
But itll do.
But the church bells
Havent changed;
The white snow-flakes
Still remain; and
The North Wind -- still howls
With a whispering chant.
O! how I love Christmas time --
With all its beauty and rimes;
Like back in 32
When a paper-doll would do.
Part III
Some things will never change
Like back in 32 -- we all knew:
In a stall in Bethlehem,
In a land called Judea
2000-years ago--
A baby child was born, called,
Jesus Christ our Savior.
Word count: # 989/re-edited 2001
Added new version: Part IV
Elsies Christmas--2001
O! the fun has never stopped even at 81
I watched her as she w atched me
Open my gifts a few days ago, as if
She was but ten
Still the love for Christmas lays
Deep within her heart
Like back in 32,
When a paper doll would do.
And although she cant reach or walk
Like she use to way back then
She still can wrap them gifts
And so this is my story to you,
A Christmas at 81, for my mother,
the whole
Year through
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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