Phantom Christmas

I can smell the phantom pies
baked fresh from the oven,see
the phantom table, set with china,
cups and plates in wait for all
to sit and eat the Christmas
love prepared year after year.
.
The voices heard- ethereal sounds
ricochet against the walls as they did
years ago- laughter amid unwrapped
packages, and tinkle bells ring
as the tree is touched by young hands
trying to feel the fabric of love.
.
Though the house looks empty,
if you go by as daylight wanes,
you can see a phantom Christmas tree,
shining through the big bay window panes.
Jane
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Wonderful poem, Jane. We all have fond memories that turn into phantom events when their locations are revisited years later = Ben
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Thanks Ben for your kind words. We lived in the house for 44 years. It has been a wrench. Jane
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hi there, jane! nice piece. reminded me when i went back to the philippines & entered my old home. my home for 12 yrs. even though everything looked & smelled different, i could still see & feel those old memories. thanks for sharing & sparking old "dreams." Drm
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Hi Drm- good to see you again. Thanks for the coment. Hope all is well with you.
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hi, jane! all is well =o) just a bit homesick for chicago & chicago style foods like deep dish pizza & for french pastries. also my second one, who'll be one in a couple of weeks is making sure mommy is hanging on the rafters from time to time. he's a little "interesting." i hope you & your family started the year well ... Drm