A Christmas Poem, Spoiled Gifts

Woven, interlaced colors of rose and lime green clusters
embedded on yellow gold, given, crushed by
you in changing piety.
A keepsake

Moleskine journal entering hopes, dreams and
wishes. No that’s not you, a fine Moleskine note pad
then, recording all neatly arranged sequences,
bounding back to giver.
A keepsake

Early tales of sorority holiday vacancies
for all, where sisters delight mentoring male
guests with their many launder inklings.
A fine wool sweater for you, sardonically shrinks
to the size of Ken’s fitting.
A keepsake

Laying out lottery tickets offered while
acknowledging the steady and secure flow
tucked away. Just a novelty, and
A keepsake

Painstaking selection of several small,
but individually chosen sanrio surprises.
Sad faced at the lack of Nintendo.
A keepsake

Me in reception of camping gear from
that special lover, with an anticipated glimpse until
the mention of an uncle with the very same.
With reservation,
Still a keepsake

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