Afterthought

Post date: Dec 24, 2012 4:39:37 PM

a Christmas poem, by Elizabeth Jennings.

For weeks before it comes I feel excited, yet when it

At last arrives, things all go wrong:

My thoughts don't seem to fit.

I've planned what I'll give everyone and what they'll give to me,

and then on Christmas morning all

The presents seem to be

Useless and tarnished. I have dreamt that everything would come

To life—presents and people too.

Instead of that, I'm dumb.

And people say. 'How horrid! What a sulky little boy!'

And they are right. I can't seem pleased.

The lovely shining toy

I wanted so much when I saw it in a magazine

Seems pointless now. And Christmas too

No longer seems to mean

The hush, the star, the baby, people being kind again.

The bells are rung, sledges are drawn.

And peace on earth for men.