Christmases of Yore
                   © By Grady L. Duncan                   

Christmas was very special,
when I was just a tyke.
Things were tuff back then. 
Now, this is what it was like.
The Winters were much colder,
we burned wood for our heat.
There wasn't very much money,
we scarcely had enough to eat.

With a tree from the woods,
that reached clear to the ceiling.
The smell of fresh cedar,
gave the room that special feeling.
We encircled the entire tree,
with popcorn strung on strings,
dangling homemade ornaments,
and colorful chains of paper rings.

On the floor, beneath the tree,
was spread batts of cotton,
upon which we place our presents.
No one would be forgotten.
They were the gifts from family,
wrapped in colorful decors.
Stockings were hung and named. 
Santa would leave somemore.

The night would finally come,
we had waited for all year.
It was hard to go to sleep. 
Santa would soon be here.
Sleep would finally come,
but it was not to last.
The first light was dawning. 
It's magic spell was cast.

The covers were flung back,
as we bounded from the bed.
The floor was like an iceburg,
but we overcame the dread.
As quietly as we could,
we tiptoed to the tree.
It was still so dark, 
that we could hardly see.

There within our stockings,
were the objects of our delights.
Fruits, nuts and candies,
and toys with flashing lights.
Presents from the family,
were mostly things they made.
With all the skill and effort,
the givers love was displayed.

Fancy gifts and costly gadgets,
are bought and given today.
Their value now is measured,
by the prices that we pay.
Given and soon forgotten,
for tomorrow it's obsolete,
or broken or cast away,
or trodden beneath our feet.

So when I think of Christmas,
my mind will likely recall,
the gifts of love once shown,
by others, when I was small.
The magic of the season,
gives my heart delight.
The Joys are still remembered,
after many a Christmas Night.

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Midi-"Carol of the Bells"
Seq'r Unknown