CHRISTMAS VOICES

CHRISTMAS VOICES

The church mouse and the cherub both light my memory,
And Christmas voices of the past, they echo through the trees.
The Christmas pageants of my youth, the caroling at nursing homes,
The reward of cookies and hot chocolate to warm the frigid bones.

My Grandmother Steed and her punch of lime sherbet and ginger ale,
She opened one gift on Christmas Eve, always without fail.
And my Grandma Potts who opened all her gifts with scissors,
So as not to tear the pretty paper.
Never one to hurry the moment,
Making it quite a whole night caper.
With Miss Myrene her next door neighbor
Chiming in occasionally, then dozing on the davenport,
Making all our Christmas Eves quite the Olympic sport.
And Grandma Potts's silver tree, with the rotating color wheel,
And my Uncle Lee, he used to sing, as the Christmas bells would peal.

The candlelight communion service, the Christmas story told,
Intertwined with Santa Claus who braved the winter cold,
Heading down our chimney with record albums and shiny bikes,
And candy canes left on our stockings, which I must admit I never liked.
My brother trying to force me to open a present,
On the night before the big day.
Some years it worked and others not,
But he often was cunning and got his way.

My mother and my father who made the holiday sublime,
In the throes of childhood how slowly passed the time.
And how my Uncle Johnny and Aunt Gloria
Would always come to see,
What glorious gifts that Santa had left beneath the tree.

And how my Uncle Johnny had those Russell Stover chocolate Santas
That would melt in your mouth as sweet as cream,
He'd sneak them into our stockings, it seemed just like a dream.
My mother and her Christmas casserole for breakfast Christmas Day,
Filled with scrambled eggs and cheese and sausage that came from Safeway.

And then driving around all over town, looking at the light displays,
The neighbors' ingenuity that took our breath away,
And my mom and I in later years, blasting Judy Collins from the car,
Looking for the luminaria and remembering the Christmas star.
My brother's savory Christmas Eve dinners and Mr. Agner's wit,
Every delicious morsel that melted so tastily on the tongue.
We all seemed so immortal then and oh, so very young.

Now an old fashioned Charles Town Christmas, with my brother and his Richard,
Old timey decorations and a plethora of trees,
Sparkling apple cider and a choice of prime hot teas
Dinner fit to serve a king plus all the treats that you can eat.
Smokey my brother's wily cat stealing ribbons at your feet.
And every year the grand tradition of Christmas in Mayberry,
Andy and Barney and Scrooge the sad and scary.
Then it's out into the cold with hearts that have been warmed,
By the comfort of close family and the shelter from life's storms.

And now my partner and I and our new traditions,
With my second parents Ernest and Ann.
Ann's cooking delights with each decadent bite.
The Christmas Eve I will never forget,
When Kyle and I exchanged our rings,
The proud and mighty culmination
Of every Christmas dream.

My grandmothers are both gone now,
My father died in '83.
My precious mother gone now too,
Leaving just my brother and me.

And my Uncle Johnny in a wheelchair,
Felled by some neurological disease,
My brother and I go see him there,
In a home for long term care.
And he still shares chocolate that others have brought
With my brother and me.
Still as sprightly a Christmas elf,
As you'd ever want to see.
My Aunt Gloria and her husband Ray,
We try to call on this special day.
In this the coldest month of the year,
We all can manage some Christmas cheer.

And sometimes still on Christmas Eve,
i dream of long ago,
When we were all together and the season was so sweet,
All the people in my life that made the day complete.
The church mouse and the baby Christ,
Tiptoe in to speak to me,
And Christmas voices from the past,
Echo through eternity.

-Bruce Potts
Revised Copyright 2014
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED