For those of you who are in my age group (over 70) and who live in the colder portions of the country, perhaps this “trip down memory lane” will bring back some fond memories.

 December \'

a poem by John "from Minnesota"

As I have wandered down through the halls of time,
I have encountered the vile and the sublime.
Now that the bones are so old and they yell at me about the cold,
I remember the warm fires in the pot bellied stove,
which stood near the entry in that small alcove.
How often I came in out of the cold and by it stood,
To warm my hands and watch the flames in the burning wood.

Just to remember those days of old,
warms these bones which have turned so cold.
In a nice warm corner stood an easy chair,
and I would spend some time warming there.
I can almost hear the crackle of the burning logs,
which so often I heard as I petted the dogs.
A pleasant room and my wife so fair,
So many good memories linger there.

The scent of the burning logs fills the air,
with it’s curious perfume so rare.
Those were hard but pleasant days,
now we’re all caught up in this “modern” phase?
Hurry and scurry here and there,
all in that rush to really get no where.
Is it any wonder my mind rolls back
to that familiar and happy track.

Take the time to sit by an old pot bellied stove,
and nestle yourself in the corner of a cozy cove.
Let your thoughts take you back to a special day,
and remember those good times now so far away.
Let your heart be warmed as you remember
those pleasant days in that cold December.
A cozy room and a warm easy chair
and all your  friends, in your memories, gathered there.

Merry Christmas from John and Ardy.