ONE DAY AT A TIME
224,297 poems read
WHAT CHILD IS THIS
How far back does your memory go,
As you recall the colors of Christmas,
Impatiently awaiting to unwrap your gifts?
Or are your memories as a child not vivid,
Cause you had no tree with a gift just for you?
Were your days the same throughout,
Or was this day the most special day of all?
Whether it was then, or still remains now,
Some less fortunate than you and me,
Have no memories of singing carols,
Trimming the tree with all the bright colors,
Leaving milk and cookies for Santa Claus,
And seeking the wished-for gifts under the tree,
Cause you feel you've been good all year long.
Now that we're a bit wiser and less selfish,
Let us open our eyes to what surrounds us,
To ones who know not the meaning of a holiday,
Ones who know not what hunger is,
But hear their tummy singing unknown tunes,
Know not the meaning of thirst,
But yearn for a cup of joy!
Let us be thankful for every morsel of food,
For every cup of tea shared with someone,
At this time, and every day of the year,
And put a smile on someone else's face,
Help them discover the true meaning of Joy,
By sharing our Goodwill to men,
Filled with Love and Peace among us all!
Yana Petkov
25th December 2005