Like the planets caught
in their well ordered patterns around the sun
we used to string the lights
around the tree –
you – fumbling and trying not to curse,
me -turning my head away to silently laugh.
Ornaments old, ugly or cherished,
dangled, reflecting the lights,
and whispering a story of creation,
of origin, of pudgy fingers that crafted
or hands that offered their gift like a treasure.
I think there is a universe swirling
around Christmas trees,
a universe filled with warm memories
and bright excitement,
tears of loss and joy-filled love.
Copyright ©2025 Lisa Paul. All rights reserved.
Indira is the host of W3 Prompt. Her challenge:
This week, write a poem on any subject, but give it a comic touch (no pathos this round).
Have fun with it!
A Little Bit of Everything, With Love 