The Christmas Fairy

The fairy on the Christmas tree

Is looking quite forlorn.

Her wand is broken and splinted; 

Her wings, all tattered and torn.

Her dress of stiff crepe paper

Was once a bright sky blue, 

But time has bleached it all away.

It's now a much paler hue.

But through it all, each Christmas

She sits in pride of place, 

Gazing down on the proceedings, 

A serene smile on her face.

She sat there when I was growing up, 

And when my son was small, 

And, somehow, I know she'll still be there

When the grandchildren come to call.

She's become a part of my family life, 

Of memories which I hold dear, 

And to me, at least, she heralds in

A Christmas filled with cheer.

And I just can't bear to give her up, 

To heartlessly throw her away.

To me she represents Christmases Past

And she will to my dying day. 

Dawn Ferrett