The Unseen Color of Christmas

Holidays, cold breeze
Children count gifts
Grandpa reminisces
About the old days
While Grandma’s busy
Prepares the fireplace
Mama's a chef
Sings while cooking
While papa’s digging
The basement for his skis
A picture of bliss
On Christmas Eve

On the other side
In a place forsaken
A shivering child
Walks the distance
In search of shelter
Scavenging trash
For any leftover food
Something to digest
Reddened dry face
Blank expression
You may have seen
This poor soul
But hardly noticed
Too busy
With the holiday rush
Turkey on the table
Gifts under the tree
Hot choco and coffee
While watching
The pendulum swings
Didn’t you just hear?
A grumbling
With time tore up
Shirt and coat
With hand-stitched
Hardened boots
Shelter for the child
Food may be served
Even just for a night
On a cold
Christmas Eve

3 Responses to "The Unseen Color of Christmas"

  1. Ronald,
    This is a very well crafted poem, which refelects the Christmas experience for so many different poeple and especially, the differences for children.
    The waste of food and the decadence of the time, has surpassed in many ways, the actual meaning of Christmas.

    I really enjoyed your poem Ronald.

    Best wishes, Eileen

  2. Hi Ronald and Eileen - love picture .. it still is terrible here in the north .. and we do turn our heads away too often & not help others .. good to have the reminder & your words ring out of the poem .. thank you - Hilary

  3. Thank you ladies! Many of us worry about what to wear, what to cook, what to wrap as a gift every Christmas when it's very obvious what to give and to whom.

    BTW, Merry Christmas to you Eileen and Hilary.


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