CHRISTMAS DRUM

CHRISTMAS DRUM

I hang an angel on the tree,
And think on you, my angel true.

My darling man of fine degree,
Who warms my heart all through and through.

The painted horses swirl and swell
Beside a miniature carousel.

Electric trains around the floor,
A hint of what has come before,

A hint of what is still to come,
And so we sound the Christmas drum.

A drum that beats the song of life
And persevering through the strife.

Of weathering the storms unseen,
Of what our love has come to mean.

I hang a reindeer on the branch,
And ponder life’s strange circumstance.

The thin line between life and death,
The sacredness of each new breath.

The soulful carolers pass the torch
And harmonize on our front porch.

Hot chocolate simmers on the stove,
And tells a tale of yuletide old.

So we’ll lie together after dark,
We’ll kiss and feel the age-old spark,

And I’ll wait until the stroke of twelve
To then seduce my favorite elf,

And tip my cap to a love still young,
And blithely sound the Christmas drum.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED