"It's time again" he announced with a wicked grin
My brother and I groaned, Christmas time again
We gathered up old familiar boxes from many Christamas' past
Up, up, up the basement stairs, each one heavier than the last
A mountain grew upon our rug of tinsil and plastic balls
Each one that we stacked, we prayed it wouldn't fall
Directions spread upon the floor, How To Put Up Your Tree
Clear English though it was, read like French to me
We struggled with the ornaments, careful they wouldn't smash
And as I unloaded it's weight on our tree, I felt something in me clash
A simple ornament really, in comparison to them all
Nothing fancy, nothing ornate, just a glittered ball
But there was a scratch, on the back, you could barely see
And as I stroked it, a movie played right in front of me
The room and tree were quite the same, I remembered well
A candle in the room next door made a peppermint smell
Carols played and we sang, my dad, my brother, and me
My mom baked cookies in the kitchen, we arranged the tree
A smaller me, a smaller him, a thiner and less grey dad
And as it played out, I remembered all the love we had
Same old tree, same old room, but something to me was strange
We didn't groan, we didn't fuss, it was me that changedA very very evocative poem that brings up many vivid images. The Christmas past images are like a dream ("Christmas Reverie"?) within the whole of the poem because the very last words " it was me that changed" took me back to the feeling of the beginning of the poem , making the entire poem bittersweet. Beautiful job.that is an exellent poem. I enjoyed it.
Christmas Past"Rewind" "Ornament Reflection"

Lovey memories, reminds me of as a child it was such fun to view one's self in glass ornaments and laugh at the----------
"Distortion" of faces viewed.I love this. It just needs some corrected grammar, but otherwise i think it's a gem!

"It's time again," he announced with a wicked grin.
My brother and I groaned, Christmas time again.
We gathered up old familiar boxes from many Christmases past.
Up, up, up the basement stairs, each one heavier than the last.
A mountain grew upon our rug of tinsel and plastic balls;
Each one that we stacked, we prayed it wouldn't fall.
Directions spread upon the floor, How To Put Up Your Tree,
Clear English though it was, read like French to me.
We struggled with the ornaments, careful they wouldn't smash,
And as I unloaded its weight on our tree, I felt something in me clash.
A simple ornament really, in comparison to them all,
Nothing fancy, nothing ornate, just a glittered ball.
But there was a scratch, on the back, you could barely see,
And as I stroked it, a movie played right in front of me.
The room and tree were quite the same, I remembered well.
A candle in the room next door made a peppermint smell.
Carols played and we sang, my dad, my brother, and me.
My mom baked cookies in the kitchen, we arranged the tree--
A smaller me, a smaller him, a thinner and less gray dad,