Thirteen - Magic Gone

The Magis’ magic’s

Sudden fall

Made humdrum and offending

All

That before was filled

With glee.

Boxes yarded from the tree

One atop another

Filling all the space.

Before excited what to find

Always first to see,

To wait, to gladly open

What others and the Saint had left.

A boy now sees for first and ever

No matter how intended,

The ordinary bought to please.

More and more

when one would do.

Or none.

His father gone, for him to wait

Perhaps in another re-enchanted place,

Struck him that

these are all we are,

Save giving more enduring grace.

— ArrowWords, Dec 17, 2008

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: CAN

Favorite Poets: Dylan Thomas, Walt Whitman, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Leonard Cohen, Constantine Cavafy

Critiques

Robert Melliard

17 years 5 months ago

Hi Arrow,

A Spanish poet said that his idea of happiness was memories of a good childhood, and Christmas time provides many such memories. But as your poem says, the magic eventually goes. My wife tries to keep it alive by decorating the house with lots of Christmas lights and green branches from the garden which she places round doors and windows. She does a good job, but we really need some grandchildren to appear on the scene to bring back some of the old excitement. I also miss Christmas cards. I remember seeing them all over the lounge in my childhood, and they were part of the decoration, but only a few people seem to send them nowadays... Best wishes, Robert.