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Her Christmas Ritual

by James Zealy

It is Christmas eve
Saturated with images
of past Christmas foray's
When paper mache carnage

Is the first of events
while stockings hung
Await a laughing covenant
Of candy, fruit along

With holograms of lights
That Adorn each window
Bushes that glisten white
As her tree Beckons aglow

For a celebration wrapped
In vestiges of simplicity
Where spirits of Christmas past
Parlay hymns of sincerity

We sit among village models
Shining lights in miniature
That sends us to a portal
Where her spirit is captured

For a moment she is our guide
To a celebration of giving
As Her laughter whispers aside
Of we that remain living

Her laughing apparition
Painted red lipped smile
And pointed fingers assertion
With Joyous irreverent guile

Lecturing us each and all
This was a damn celebration
Gesturing she was appalled
At tears shed in vain

Hands on her shadowy hips She calls
"Get off your ass and smile"
"I'll have no tears" her loud growl
Sits us alert as we corral

Our emotional flourish of angst
Scattered in a shredded paper trance
Resolves itself in smiles pained
While we honor her willowy rant

It is a Christmas first
And a Christmas forever
Where her spiritual tryst
Becomes an annual ritual


Author's Note: I started and stopped this many times. I guess could never find the right words.

Posted on 05/29/2013
Copyright © 2021 James Zealy

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