It isn't over though festivities have ended;
The aura of light begs, "Hold on what we've gained."
The mystery of the gift of life extended,
The marvel of the lifting of our load, attained.
"How long," we ask ourselves, "should these lights stay lighted,
How long, the fragrant greens the mantle grace?"
How long, in a world of selfishness, benighted,
Can we generate the warmth and smiling face?
The streets still glitter, brightly, as the dark comes;
It will stay until the festive aspect lifts.
The rushing before candles and those dear drums,
Now changes to rushing to exchange the gifts.
But, hold on; it doesn't have to change with such abruptness;
The same hands that hung the lights,wrapped the surprise,
Can function in the daily round of busy-ness,
With generous spirit, kind attentive eyes.
It isn't over, though festivities have ended;
Through the year, the Gift of love survives.
Like Boxing Day in England, poor befriended,
The wondrous Gift goes on, lights other lives.
©12/26/2011 Carol Morfitt