Family Tree

In every proud Victorian home

There was a tree ablaze in light

Bedecked with gold and garland strands

to celebrate on Christmas night.

Again in times close to our own

In every decent Christian home

A little creche gained in favor

to celebrate our infant savior.

The years speed past for you and me

I think back half a century

To when I was a tiny child

agog at my first Christmas tree.

Among the decorations there

Six small orbs of hand blown glass

From Mom and Dad’s first Christmas tree

They were a precious legacy.

That home is but a memory, true

From those six orbs we have lost two

From other hearths now trees arise

to sparkle in our children’s eyes.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!