I saw the Ghost-of-Christmas Past
Glide by our lighted tree.
Her arms were filled with dolls and
toys,
And all were meant for me.
I sensed the rustle of her skirt.
Her blouse was trimmed with lace,
And when she turned to smile at me
She wore my mother's face.

Just as this vision slipped from sight
I heard my daughter call.
Wild footsteps clattered on the stair;
Shrill giggles filled the hall.
She burst into the gift-filled room
An squealed in glad surprise,
And all the Christmases-to-come
Were mirrored in her eyes.

How swiftly fly the rainbow years,
Like splintered shafts of light,
As fragile as the gentle ghosts
Who whisper in the night.
I draw my child into my arms
And hold this moment fast
Against the time my face will be
Her Ghost-of-Christmas Past.

by Lois Duncan

Beautiful!
Lynne

Very nice poem.

Very nice...thanks for sharing.

I liked it too. Thanks for sharing.

Now thats poetry in every sense of the word...very well done.

Browser -- How wonderfully beautiful!! I am in awe. It says so very much about life and all of us.

Very talented. Thanks for posting it and sharing.

Sandpiper

A Beautiful poem...such a nice beginning to my day..Thank you Browser!