The orphan at Christmas, he stares at the stones
That mark where his parents lie
With all that he’s lost, and now almost alone
He still does not know why
But the friend of his boyhood, she stands at his side
Which freezing quickened breath
And they read, in the battle that they’ve still to fight
To be conquered
It is 3:22 AM
And she can’t get to sleep:
So she goes to her kitchen
Where, all boxed up in a heap
The Christmas decorations are
That she has long accrued.
She hasn’t even opened them,
She’s not been in the mood.
Deciding, she then opens one
There’s a toy village there:
She puts together all its parts
With noticeable care.
Or, it would be noticed, if
She wasn’t there alone.
This village has been hers since, oh
Before her kids were grown
Or even out of high school;
But, that was some years ago.
She looks at all the tiny lights,
The people, and fake snow —
Remembering the magic of
A world transformed by light:
The music of a heart
That didn’t lie awake at night.
And when the morning came
The house was festive, stem to stern;
Her husband looked at her in wonder
Then with slight concern
“When did you… why do all this?
I would have helped you know.”
“I know,” she told him simply
And then took his hand to show
The people in the village there
Amidst the Christmas lights:
Who still believe and understand
My parents both were singers.
My parents both were singers,
Taught us each to sing a part;
We would go out at Christmas and
Would carol folks by heart
I didn’t mind it very much
Out in the frost and rime:
I usually was rather shy
But not at Christmastime
When light and music filled the air –
The sound comes back to me –
There’s still no gift more special than
There’s nothing can give your heart
Quite the bounce
As when children prove
“It’s the thought that counts”
I think about you often, friend.
I think about you, friend, quite often
Of a Winter night
I’m glad you’ve finally found a friend