I yearn to see Mom's eyes
as brightly as the star of
to watch the snow upon the tin
and glistening in the moonlight
like a gem.
I long to see the lamplight
and hear the crackling fire
behind the grate,
to feel anticipation caused by
that soon would come the
Oh, how I loved those childhoods
when Mama baked and sang around
Those are the times I cherish
no matter where I wander or I
Oh, Christmas home and hearth of
time cannot steal your memory
Copyright © 1998 Ruth Gillis
published in Poets at Work
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