Christmas Time

Now Christmas is approaching,
And this time every year.
I think back on my childhood
And days of yesteryear.

When we would go a hunting
To find a Christmas tree.
We didn't have to buy one
But cut it down for free.

We’d stand it a bucket
And pack with rocks and sand.
Then cutout stars of plastic
Whatever was at hand.

Streamers made of paper
Were hung around about.
We stood and looked with wonder
Till father said get out.

We went to bed quite early
And listened to the noise.
A rustling of paper,
And wrapping up of toys.

Then early in the morning
Us little kids arose,
And went to where the tree was,
On little tippy toes.

And while we looked in wonder
We thought of what Mum said
Do not touch the presents
Till we are out of bed.

So then at last they entered
And Dad walked to the tree
Then said, go get your presents
They're all from mum and me.

This I still remember
I hold it very dear,
The happy times of childhood
And Christmas every year.

by George Savige

Comments (1)

Another lovely Christmas poem. It certainly takes me back to very homely Christmas's where everything was hand made and did'nt we love making the paper chains and stirring the Christmas Pud. Sincerely Ernestine Northover