Christmas Kept
by M Ryan Taylor
Copyright © 2008 M Ryan Taylor

“Only five shopping days until Christmas!”
spelled out in a bright green and red.
My heart skips twice, caught up in a vice
between rabid panic and dread.

With seventeen “tokens of love” yet to buy
and forty-five cards yet to post:
“To do”s in my brain form a ponderous chain,
the envy of old Marley’s ghost.

Gold or black? Orange or blue?
Peach or sky? or a lavender hue? “Excuse me.”
Plum or pink? I cannot think! “Pardon me.”
Eggnog’s a color and not just a drink? “Could I have a look too?”
Granite grey or “Ruby Rocks!”? “Hey, your blocking the aisle.”
Too many choices for one pair of socks! “Would you let me through please?”
Striped or plaid with Celtic knots, “Can I help you find something?”
or paisley with calico polka dots? “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want that one?”

Quickly I make for the exit,
abandon my mart cart and run.
My heart feels the flow of mon esprit joyeux
as I stand in the radiant sun.

While studying socks at the Walmart today
a wonderful thought filled my head;
The marketing bend claims “To give is to spend.”
Yet, I’d rather keep Christmas instead!

Carols sung, a kindly word,
Service gone unseen and unheard,
Time well-shared and stories read,
Poor ones remembered and better well-fed.
Greater gifts are only found
accepting the gift sent to all around:
Christmas kept can only start
by letting the Christmas Child into your heart.