Christmas Lost

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home! ~Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1836

i'm a child and she was my Christmas lost

i ran to the tree for the only thing i wanted

i tripped over a table and didn't bother to hurt

she was underneath in my dream the night before

but lunging at the present alter i found nothing

no one could convince me my dream wasn't real

i could feel her and even smell her hair

so you can imagine my disappointment

i wallowed for a bit then stumbled to pop's lap

i crawled up in it for a glimpse of relief

but i could feel his heart skipping as he held back

tears for my lost Christmas

but still i could feel his love

it was just that i'd have to wait another year or so