Billie is old, lives in Christmas past,
Too feeble to tend her yard,
Holds onto her home with tenacity,
For it she had worked very hard.
A child she had wasn’t doing too well,
Gave her wind chimes a long time ago,
They’ve hung ‘neath the roof all seasons long,
Billie loves their ringing so.
The child she remembered changed to another
Well-heeled a rich man her lot,
Oh, she never forgets her mother,
Sends "something", it's "thoughtfulness" she forgot.
Christmas morning was bright and clear,
Crisp and icy, Billie stayed in,
Opened presents right by herself,
Both sad and grateful again.
Something caught her old worn ringing ears,
The wind chimes rang loud carols without wind.
She smiled, then cynically, answered the phone.
"Mom, I’ve been ringing, where have you been?"
© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
Watch these pages for more poems by Norma.
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poems and stories by our other authors.
Ode To 2004
The Best Christmas
One More Year
The Twelve Days Of Christmas...Updated
House On Hobb's Hill
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