Sorted

Time weeps. It sheds real tears this time of year. There is never enough Christmas cheer to soothe old scars. And Santa is selective. He only frequents certain postcodes, although the shelves are emptying slowly. I decided I must cull the unchaperoned memories and replace them with old, rejuvenated photos that were once ripe with laughter. They still look perfect. I also decided to secure the aged memories beneath the artificial Christmas tree. It seems to grow taller each year. The gifts are fewer now, But the tiny bells still whistle familiar carols, and the noisy candy canes still swing like Tarzan and sing nostalgic acapella. Hope warms and keeps my eyes awake although the feisty baubles refuse to sleep. They hum Christmas jingles and dance. With cautious delight, I watch the pictures decorate the walls. They always look perfect this time of year. They never age. If only I could turn back time or slow its mercurial march. Heaven knows! It moves too fast. For now, let me wrap my wishes in soft blankets of dreams to stay warm until the chilly breezes drizzling outside pass. At least, I can still sit by the fireplace and watch my tireless thoughts lounge underneath the Christmas tree. Perhaps I could open them again next year when these ageless pictures invite me home again for the holidays.