Christmas Morning

A crackling fire bites toes a bit too close,
As frozen branches tap their icy fingers
Against the frosted panes of glass.
In the distance, faintly, a small child's sighs
Give in to overwhelming sleepiness.

Time to shed off the flurry of activity,
For just a few more moments
To nestle down on soft pillows, adorned with quilts
In the arms of one much loved
Pondering together the anticipated expressions
That will appear with the sunrise.

The fragrances of morning to come,
The gingerbread, cinnamon, pine and hickory
Still linger from the feast-lined pantry.
The last bit of wrapping finally done
In the fanciest of shiny metallic trappings,
Topped off with a myriad of rainbow hues.

The towers of soon-to-be revealed surprises
Wait under the watchful arms of the lowly evergreen,
Limbs carefully adorned with glitters and gold and lights
Each item, a precious memory carefully placed.
Crowned with the glorious angel, wings aglow
And swathed in a gown of golden spray.

A time for slowing down, ]memories, laughter.
A time for shedding grudges, mittens and boots,
For hugs, forgiveness, tenderness, acceptance
The whispering of a baby's name as he softly cries
Int the presence of strangers, on a starry night
Long ago, in a land far-away

*Copyright ~ Barb Tucker, 2000 ~