On Christmas Day, On Christmas Day
handsome young men, young women were we!
O, that we are! O, that we are! Beee-you'-tiful!
You just look at us, and see!
Now Jesus born, in Bethlehem...
even better we shall be!
--
notes
accent on second syllable in "beee-you-ti-ul"
(beautiful)
Our first Christmas with no kids about. Everyone is at their own homes across the country.
It is a wonderful day, but the sense of anticipation is somewhat less. (That's why the morning is "lite".) No matter how stressful it may be, the hustle and bustle of the whirlpool of family often seems better than the silence which prevails when children are not present.
I feel a slow and sleepy temblor of change, like I feel I am looking at the small Christmas tree we put up, and I am traveling, and have just turned the corner where the road to the West comes out of the forest, and suddenly you know you are walking towards Avalon, the island of orchards and apples, the Alma Ata of new discovery, Hesperides and the golden, golden West.
What a wonderful thing are Mankind and their Creator!
--
thx to Plutarch and Lykurgos for help in the poem.
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