I Miss Christmas Past By: Frances McCrory Meservy  2002

How I miss Christmas cards that I held in my hand.

How I miss the feel, touch and smell of paper.

Mailboxes are not filled throughout the land.

E-cards aren’t printable - only a fleeting vapor.

How I miss Christmas trees aglow in every window.

How I miss Children’s faces all pink and rosy.

E-people are too busy to kiss under the mistletoe.

And Children are pale from video games so cozy.

How I miss ribbon candy displayed with great cheer.

How I miss the smell of pipe tobacco.

E-doctor’s say the smoke will kill each dear.

And sweets are replaced by batteries so wacko.

How I miss Christmas carols in the night.

How I miss the smell of Apples under the tree.

E-business keeps us in the house so tight

And fruit is a daily thing children consider free.

How I miss Christmas joy.

How I miss excited faces in the morning.

E-toys are downloaded instead of a toy

And kids grumble over what is wanting.

How I miss Nativity scenes all over town.

How I miss bales of hay spread all around.

E-times tell us there’s no time to take it down

And the court says only secular can abound.

Hear folks grumble that old shows are a fairy tale.

See the Children watch old movies in disbelief.

I’m here to tell you I grew up in Mayberry RFD for real

And I lived in a Donna Reed home to my relief.

Here’s hoping the wonders of Christmas will return.

The courts will come to their senses again.

Towns will cherish each child in turn

And love in each home will reign.