By Mary Curtin

Can I with words recapture
The magic, wonder, rapture
Of long ago and Christmas past?

Can I perhaps this moment cast
My mind and memory to that time
When everything had sense and rhyme;

The candle, the ivy, the berries, the holly;
The Christmas cards of laughing jolly
Santa Clauses dressed in red;
The mistletoe above my head;
The love I felt but never said.
The lights, the sparkle, the sweet surprise
When I turned and looked into your eyes.

Here is the church and here is the steeple
And midnight Mass full of people;
Intoxicated whiskied breaths
Mixed with perfume, prayers, and blessed
With heady incense that fills the air
Permeating clothes and hair.
Choirs singing, bells ringing,
Hugs and smiles and tears and frowns
And ‘Welcome homes’and half a crowns,
And snow falling and friends calling
And gifts and tinsel and frosty skies…
And those eyes… those eyes.

Walking home in brand new shoes
And clothes we didn’t get to choose
But happy in our new found wealth;
In food and gifts and youth and health;
And out of the silent nighted throng
A drunken voice is raised in song
“How warm our love in cold December”

And even now I still remember
The sights, the sounds, the whispered sighs,
And someone always says “time flies”
…and it does.
But those eyes, those eyes, those eyes.

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