The Christmas Fairy

The Christmas Fairy

The Christmas tree so bright, 

so many pretty colors,

sparkling in tinsel 

and glimmering from its decorations;

there it stands tall and straight.

But something is amiss, 

something clouded in memory,

something not tallying the balance.

I walk slowly around the tree,

examining all around, for what could be wrong.

I retire for the night on Christmas Eve

after taking another look at my magnificent tree

and again getting that feeling,

that something is amiss.

I shrug my shoulders as I snuggle under the covers.

As soon as my eyes are open

I am on my feet, 

it is time to open the presents.

Eagerly I make my way to the living room,

And lo and behold, what do I see?

There, on top of the Christmas tree,

dancing there is the prettiest sight,

flashing in a multitude of shades and hues,

the most beautiful fairy,

pirouetting and spinning around.

Like a little ballerina, she was.

A few seconds passed,

and in a blink of an eye she was gone

leaving in a shower of sparkly fairy dust 

which gently settled upon my head. 

But everything is as it should be.

I remembered the fairy 

on the Christmas tree.

Cynthia©