PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Gifts with no names.

One of them could have been yours.

Each one, carefully picked...

Colorfully wrapped in green,

red

and gold.

Arranged beneath my tree;

their shiney paper reflecting the glow from

my candle lite room,

with hope in my heart I await,

for friends or family to drop by.

Candies, cookies, Smidgens & fudge

adorn my table, longing to be shared.

Their delicate sweetness waiting to be savored

by my anticipated visitors this Eve.

Perhaps, even a stranger,

a passerby; who has lost their way on this cold snowy Eve.

tick

tock

tick

tock

Midnight....

Wrappings still shimmer under waning candles.



What does it matter?...

Nobody knew.



If they did, then I know they would have come!

At least, for a moment.

Time fitting proper enough, for them to claim their gift

and delight over the goodies set before them.

Just enough time, to still their conscious before bidding

a quick farewell, there's things to do, an awkward hug.

And out the door.



No, none of them received their gifts this night.

Neither did I.

An unexpected vist.

A warm heartfelt greeting.

A smile of innocense,

which would hold no expectation.

Perhaps I want too much.



What does it matter?

Nobody knew.



I could store away the gifts

and freeze the goodies.

I could,...

but I won't.

These gifts were meant to be given,

to the ones I love most.



What does it matter?

They'll never know.



So, instead I'll load them upon a sled,

blow out my candles which are nearly dead,

bundle myself for a midnight walk.

Dropping these gifts at the door stoops

of those who live along my street.

People, I know least yet;

have taken time to bid me "good-day",

many times during the year past.

People who have just dropped by,

tacking a WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD NOTE.

Some even left food baskets,

or fragrant candles.

I know not who left those treasures at my door.

So, I pray that tonight, God guides me rightly

as to leave these gifts at their doorways.

Gifts, with no names.



It doesn't matter.

I know they will wonder in awe.



If I hurry, I can be home on time to meet

Humphrey Bogart.

He says he'd like to take me to Casablanca

this Christmas.

That we'll travel First Class, television.



I think I'll go.

Do you think anyone would mind?

Does it matter?