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A Time Of the Year

It is funny how memories
of old friends appear
at just around Christmas
every year.
Your mind drifts off to places
you used to know
and all the fun
you used to enjoy there.
Back to the school days
how joyous they were,
but ask anyone how they felt about them
and they’ll tell you they hated it there.
In truth, it was the best years of our lives.
A time before the world
and its pressures closed in,
a time of laughter, no tears there.
Lazy days of summers
that seemed to last all year,
and at Christmas
everyone’s favourite time of the year,
gifts spilled out from the bottom of the tree.
Those times are all now gone,
but we can still relive
the joys we used to know
through the eyes of our children
and their children
at this time of the year.

12 December 2007

poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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