a month of hopefuls
romance fragrant like a rose
dreams from the sky blow
lacy snowflakes danced
in a magical embrace
beneath the living Christmas Tree
The new year passes
“will you” and “I will”
sung in a wonderland of snow
gifts elegantly circled with red satin bows
8 knives for carving
1 rope for climbing
bridal silk embellished with white seed pearls
promises of forever
beneath the flocked Christmas Tree
trying to pull out good memories
“they must be there”
rummaging through the box of Christmas ribbon
I caress an eight inch lamp-post
to it we raised a toast
once there glowed
declaration of love
beneath our barren Christmas tree
The seasons and the gifts got stranger
oddly shaped sweater
a perfect fit
for your octopus arms
wrapped around others
untying their bows
the lamp shone green
beneath the scrawny Christmas tree
Each year’s end, always hoping
for the gold-edged red ribbon
magic sparked from its edges
hiding in fresh pine needles
tied around a ring
that hung shiny and bright
beneath the tinsel Christmas Tree
I looked for years
the ribbon it seemed
confirmer of dreams
the magic it held
would imbibe our love
restart the music
light the lamp
beneath the leaning Christmas Tree
Eons has my search
been in vain
the tree was old
no glitter nor gold
my hands reached for the ribbon
teasing, it hung in brown branches
I grasped it
the lamp-post guided the way
beneath the dead Christmas Tree
willing the magic to work
pricking my finger on a needle
rather than satiny red colored blood
I saw knives, a rope
beneath the artificial Christmas Tree
The gold-edged ribbon
about the neck of an eight inch doll
dressed in white silk
embellished with red seed pearls
an eery light flickered
beneath the strung up Christmas tree
The years of “wasted away”
I looked up eyes agape
death’s eyes dilate
no longer could they focus
all there had ever been
the light shone
on a lifeless form
beneath the fresh-cut Christmas Tree
This year a celebration
four boxes with satiny bows
covering brown stain
romantic starry-eyed blur
arms encircled her
she picked up eight seed pearls
“red, oh how festive”
“Yes,” sinister was the light in his eyes
beneath the re-gifted Christmas Tree
~ Leslie Moon
© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.
33 thoughts on “Beneath the Tree”
Freaking brilliant, Leslie! I love the way you used the Christmas trees decay, falsity, and resurrection to indicate the emotional and physical stature of the narrator. Beautifully played!
glad you liked it!
Strong symbols in this Christmas nightmare. Most of us just enjoy gifts beneath the tree…
Songs help (with the symbolism)
Nothing like ripping presents…and hearts…apart for the Christmas season, Leslie!! 🙂 I very much enjoyed BENEATH THE TREE; again, much like unwrapping a gift, the relationship within your prose slowly unravels, the once merry light dimming and dimming until darkness prevails. Now that is Yuletide cheer! 😉
Loved it, Leslie 🙂
always cleanup after the presents are ripped apart
Wow! You sure eased into the part of the poem I loved the most. Step by step, the intensity grew, until it was there. Horror befitting the best of what The Damned is all about. Joe viewed this as prose, whereas I tend to look at it as poetry at it’s finest. Everything you write comes across to me as poetry.
The past becoming the present. My, my. simply lovely, Leslie.
glad you sensed the build up. That can be tricky with poetry. And thanks Blaze
You are most welcome, my friend. Superb work!
Leslie, what wonderful metaphors you’ve used to describe a deteriorating relationship in this poem. The fading ribbons, dulling lights, pricking of a finger and a tree that has lost its shine are lovely ways of describing the pain associated with it. A beautiful poem, Leslie, very lovely in its progression. 🙂
thanks Nina – I was inspired
on the eighth day of Christmas … my untrue love gave me to me: 8 drops a dripping
The things you find under Christmas trees these days
gosh I realize I should have added poison
Colorful progression of doom beneath the tree! Unique festival of foreshadows – well written, Leslie!!!
doom and gloom and the end of some things
Leslie, the romance is “off the bloom” and dripping down her fingertips it seems. The next “victim” starts with the drops of blood as her dowry dreams.
yep the cycle continues of doomed love
White to red seed pearls. Ah Christmas ain’t it grand…..excellent use of the tree and the perfect last line
Thanks – the seed pearls added a nice accent
Reblogged this on Creative Soul and commented:
thanks so for the reblog and a Merry Christmas to you!
I do look forward to the turn of our Damned poet and you haven’t disappointed, Leslie. Beautifully written and filled with some evocative imagery.
I still laugh when people refer to me as a poet Thomas but I will bow gracefully and smile
Leslie, your prose and poetry invoked a lovely scene as you skillfully took the reader on a journey from warmth to ruin and into a fresh start. Marvelous work!
warmth ruin and fresh blood hmm just ripe for Christmas
would love to know what you would do with the 12 Days of Christmas
didn’t Agatha Christie already do that???
Finally, a Chrismas poem I can love! Ho ho holy crap that was good.
ha thanks Hunter
Sorry for taking so long to post a comment Leslie.
Your ability to create such a complex and meaningful arrangement with so little space is amazing. I loved the holiday stroll you took me on with this – the tinsel and ribbon to dead and rusty colored blood.
hmm glad you liked
and my comments are really really late
It’s a busy time fo year!