The Fairy on the Christmas Tree

The fairy on the Christmas tree

Is looking quite forlorn.
Her wand is broken and splinted;
Her wings, all tattered and torn.
Her dress of stiff crepe paper
Was once a bright sky blue,
But time has bleached it all away.
It's now a much paler hue.
But through it all, each Christmas
She sits in pride of place,
Gazing down on the proceedings,
A serene smile on her face.
She sat there when I was growing up,
And when my son was small,
And, somehow, I know she'll still be there
When the grandchildren come to call.
She's become a part of my family life,
Of memories which I hold dear,
And to me, at least, she heralds in
A Christmas filled with cheer.
And I just can't bear to give her up,
To heartlessly throw her away.
To me she represents Christmases Past
And she will to my dying day.

Dawn Ferrett