Wednesday 6 January 2010

Goodbye Christmas tree

Undecorating the Christmas tree
tier by tier
I unwrap each bauble
year after year
And name them each
in hope and good cheer.

This tree of life
Father cannot see
These pine needles
he brushes tentatively
This scent, these dreams
he gathers gently

And offers them
to me.


  1. My imposter tree is still up and beginning to collect dust. I think I'll wait until the weekend to take it down, put on some music and make an event of it.

    Congratulations on your first blogoversary! Best wishes for many more to come, dear friend.

    (I'm enjoying the witty and humorous letters in GLPPPS!)

  2. First of all, Happy New Year!

    Secondly, I loved, just loved the way you rhymed 'see' with 'tentatively' and 'gently'. As if they had been close cousins all their lives. :-)

    Many thanks for such beautiful post.

    Greetings from London.

  3. Hi Shaista, your poetry is beautiful, you've such a lovely gift with words.
    Thanks for stopping by my blog and Happy New Year to you
    hugs Mandy xx

  4. I had to take my tree down before Christmas this year because we weren't going to be home and it had been up since Thanksgiving...

    where has the time gone.

    much love

  5. we keep meaning to take our tree down but being only 18 inches tall he doesnt really seem to be bothering anyone so we might just let him sit there in the corner with his miniature baubles shining in the afternoon sun for a little while longer...

  6. i imagine those poky pines must have got dad a few times on his way out to the conservatory and then just to make the point, got him on the way into the lounge as well...

    nice piccy of you...i'm currently reading Murakami...brilliantly written book called Kafka on the Shore. Have you read it? i wonder if they have the audio?

  7. Such a lovely poem, Shaista. Tomorrow I must get all my decorations down and packed away. The years are passing far too quickly, that's for sure!

    Hope you are feeling well, dear one.

  8. shaista, I love this poem. So clever. I was with my Mother yesterday. She is blind. When I entered her room she seemed to not recognize my voice and it wasn't until she felt my hands and said, "oh this must be ming-a...your hands are always rough."

    Then she fumbled around for her hand cream.

  9. Has it been a year already? What great start - am so glad to have met you and your blog, Shai! :) Long may it continue!

  10. You are gorgeous. Wow.

    Love Renee xoxo