Christmas Tree

Armed
I am, with
Credit card, by
Christmas Club,
to meet this month
to see it through, to
make, as they say, Merry.
Rush I must, to hold the pace, I
bravely fly, from place to place, to buy,
to get, to spend, to cash, to carry.
Dazzled I, by lavish toys, for girls and boys,
chic dolls that talk, machines that walk,
and wondrous window dressings.
Wise I am, to metal trees, with guarantees,
synthetic gauds, that smell of chemists' blessings.
Joyful then my Brethren with spirits high,
do celebrate this hallowed date, with Tom and also Jerry.
Don we now a Christmas face, prepare to share,
in one small space, on our Day Off, the joys of Joe and Mary.
Sad I am, that what was once a vital cloth,
of golden warp, of crimson weft, of simple, blessed issue,
Passing here, through many hands, the selfsame strands, now
seems to be an elegant and undistinguished tissue.
Stop I will, to hold a child, to see a star, to wonder -- yes! To wonder!
To remember,
The legacy, the gift of love,
yearned into life,
and left to us,
to hold and pass,
is not gone this December.

© Maggie Morley, 1996

Poems by Maggie Morley

The Albany Poetry Workshop