Holiday Memories

by Stephanie Osborn
http://www.stephanie-osborn.com

The following is taken from my collection of poetry, and is a melange of Christmas memories throughout my life, from childhood to the present day. It is warm and sweet and comforting, like hot chocolate on a winter's day. Merry Christmas.

~~~

The Tree

by Stephanie Osborn

excerpted from Stolen Moments: A Book of Verse, by Stephanie Osborn

The wind blows briskly through the bare tree limbs.

It bites my cheeks, turning them a dusky red.

The lowering clouds spit snowflakes.

We make our way through the harvested field

Brown and sere, toward the clump of trees near the edge.

Cedar trees grow here. Thickly clustered

On the hillside, they are the only green visible

For miles. We circle each one carefully, inspecting

And commenting to each other about this one

Or that. Finally, it is done. The choice is made.

Father glances at Mother. "Are you sure?"

A nod, and he raises the axe. In a few strokes

The living tree has fallen, the scent of cedar

Borne to our nostrils on the crisp December air.

We breathe deep the fragrance of evergreen.

At home, measurements are carefully made

And Father trims the base of the tree,

affixes the stand, and brings it inside.

We oooh and aaah with excitement

Before Mother opens the ornament box.

Fairy lights and tinsel, snowballs and mercury glass

And garland ropes, antique balls and strands

Of silver bedeck the tree in quick order. Each

Of us has his or her apportioned task, and even

The youngest has a special ornament for the tree.

The oldest ornaments, the family reserves for me

To place carefully. They know my love for them

And know I treat them as the treasures they are.

Delicately, I position them on each branch, and smile.

"There," I decide, "perfect. It's all done."

Mother nods, and Father smiles. He switches off

The room lights, and we all sigh with happiness.

Glimmering proud, the tree stands as a symbol

Of love, of family, of tradition, of faith. The room

Grows quiet, as we all settle back to enjoy.

 

Later, the gaily-wrapped gifts will emerge to be

Placed beneath the decorated boughs and enjoy

Their rightful place. For now, the cat slinks her way

Underneath, finds a spot where she can gaze up

Into the multicolored phantasia, and settles down.

Outside, the snow comes down softly. Father

Lights a fire in the fireplace. Mother gets out

The homemade candies and puts them nearby. There is

The sound of mirth, soft laughter, loving conversation.

The season has come to us. Happy Christmas.

~~~

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night." ~Clement Clarke Moore

-Stephanie Osborn

Christmas Eve 2014

http://www.stephanie-osborn.com