Home, For Christmas
By DEREK BECHER
It’s nestled in fragrant and frost-covered pines,
Whose branches embrace the fresh feathery snow,
At the end of the drive beside pickets of white
In the dark of the winter, the lone warming glow.
A thin wispy curl of cedar-sweet smoke
Flirts through the flue, and twirls to the sky;
And icicles dance down the eaves and the sills —
Frosty, frozen Christmassy sighs.
Nativity characters, softly-lit, glow —
A marvelous scene I remember so true —
With wandering tracks of the deer and fine fauna
Who share in the wonder of hope again new.
Birds whistle songs ’round the pine cones and needles,
While stars sparkle high — only they could have seen
The birth of a savior, now so long ago,
So quietly peaceful, so softly serene.
Still calmness I feel, halcyon holy eve,
The crisp airy breath, I inhale so deep;
A memory emotion, I look to my window. . . .
Envisioning warmth in my bed, where I’ll sleep.
Our Christmassy home, ah the stories it holds,
So blessedly filled — warm laughter, love mild;
The music, though low, I can hear through the shelter.
I open the door, and again I’m a child.