An Xmas Request

My blogging buddy Lisa asked me to put up a poem here that I sent to her. It was an Xmas poem that I'd written many years ago. Although a bit dated, it's mostly accurate so far as our family's Christmases.

It's December again with a sharp nip in the air
And the shopping ads warn 'not a moment to spare.'
You run hither and yon, so is your mission
To find the right gift, such is tradition.

It comes and it goes too fast to think
Of why it is we raise such a stink.
Baking and cooking and wrapping till weak
Searching malls and toy stores, shops and boutiques.

But when I do pause to remember years past,
When our kids believed in Santa Claus last,
There were big family parties in rented dance halls
And looking for hoofprints in Christmas snowfalls.

Cutting a tree after a ride in the snow.
Then warming yourself by the fire's warm glow.
Grandpa gave treats to the grandkids himself.
With a wink of his eye, he looked like an elf.

Christmases now aren't like Christmases then.
Even the eve's midnight mass starts this year at ten.
And the big family party has been put to bed,
Now that grandma's near ninety and grandpa is dead

Closed is the farm where we cut the scotch pine.
They hope to be back, they say when we whine.
I'm hoping our kids when grown can remember.
The real fun that can come in December.

Pinatas and contests and carols and games
Playing with cousins and recalling their names.
Forget all the gifts and the presents, I'm wishin'.
Cherish the good times. Be that your tradition.