Patterns of Christmas Past
How life is stretched now, seven decades deep.
All those glittering cards scattered through time,
shards of people past who rest now asleep,
memories needle sharp, picked out in pine
that pierce the past and make the future weep.
There is a santa claus in every year,
his sack packed full of bitter, sour and sweet,
who brings this rueful smile, that happy tear,
baubles we lost, traditions that we keep
alive. The Christmas jumpers that we wear
remind us our good shepherds watched their sheep
and looked in proudly from the frosty air
and wished us warm and snuggly in our wraps,
hand knitted, stitched in plain and purl, with care.
Oonah V Joslin ©2023
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