This single day of joy,
Bedecked with merriment and youth
And plagued by dreams of that one toy
That will prove to me this season's truth,
As a child, was so wondrous.
And all the days leading unto it,
My cheer was pure and boundless,
And the glee born then was a conduit
That would last me all the year.
But time has long since grown,
And with each passing season I fear
That the magic I once had known
Is now gone for all my years.
(For the joy I now try so hard to find is never what I remember.)
Written 12.25.09 @ 12:10 AM