Country Christmas Poem

My mind begins to wander
to them days of long ago.
I’d hear the bells on jingle-sleighs
and feel the cold wet snow.

My pony’d start to whinny
with breath that I could see,
as we rode up in the mountains
to fetch a Christmas tree.

Our fingers were kept busy
stringin’ berries for that tree,
popcorn, stars, n’ candles…
it was quite a sight to see.

I remember our log cabin
that set down by the lake,
and think of sacrifices
my folks sure had to make.

I think about my mother
preparin’ special treats,
an’ hangin’ up our stockin’s
she took right off our feet.

An’ dear ol’ Dad a workin’
ta build that favored toy,
fullfillin’ all the fancy dreams
of each child, girl or boy.

I smell the goose Mom cooked us
an’ taste the punkin’ pie,
the turnip greens an’ taters
piled almost to the sky.

I hear the Christmas blessin’,
heads bowed before the meal,
hopin’ all our guests agreed
‘bout how it made us feel.

‘Cause we were taught the reason
why we celebrate
the Christ child bein’ born that day,
it weren’t just chance nor fate.

An’ when I hold my children,
though Christmas ain’t the same,
I’ll teach ‘em ‘bout that holy day
an’ to revere His name.

Country Christmas poem
by Tamara Hillman.
Copyright 2003
Write To Tamara

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