For years she made an effort every Christmas eve
To make things kind of special, put on her best dress,
Did her hair real pretty and spruce garlands did weave,
Made a cake and hot toddy, remembered days gone by.
Her work worn hands now painful, her bright eyes dim
With years of endless working, but her greatest sorrow
At this special time of year, now tears her eyes did rim,
Was no one remembered her, friends and loved one gone,
Who knows where. For years many cards filled the home
From folks far and wide. No one ever seems to call
Or knock upon her door. Why was she left now all alone?
There must be some who remembered her this time of year,
She did have one small comfort, in her hand one Christmas card
Eyes dim, she couldn’t see, wrong address, that would be too hard
M Ann Margetson
Dec 11 1997 ©
Back to Poetry Index
This page is hosted by
Get your own Free home Page