Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
her first Christmas tree rising to the ceiling the green scent of fresh pine permeates papa put up all the lights now it’s her turn a treasure of ornaments buried in tissue paper a small, brightly colored stuffed menagerie made by her Aunts and Uncles when they were just kids glittered, glistening plastic snow flakes shiny, smiling ornaments of different sizes and unusual shapes most of them older than her going back three generations it’s quite a task but Grandma said she could do it unwrapping with care choosing just the right placements when she’s hung her last hook my little niece stands back aglow with happiness she whispers “It’s perfect” Del Maximo © December 8, 2009
0
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:27 PM UTC
Katya at Six
her first Christmas tree rising to the ceiling the green scent of fresh pine permeates papa put up all the lights now it’s her turn a treasure of ornaments buried in tissue paper a small, brightly colored stuffed menagerie made by her Aunts and Uncles when they were just kids glittered, glistening plastic snow flakes shiny, smiling ornaments of different sizes and unusual shapes most of them older than her going back three generations it’s quite a task but Grandma said she could do it unwrapping with care choosing just the right placements when she’s hung her last hook my little niece stands back aglow with happiness she whispers “It’s perfect” Del Maximo © December 8, 2009
Written by
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 2:27 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem