Driving through town
Late one December eve
I behold the sparkling sight
Of dozens
Of Christmas trees
Upon the courthouse lawn.
It's a sight repeated
Every year
When local charities
And other organizations
Join together
To spread yuletide joy
To passersby
Through delightful interpretations
Of O Tannenbaum. So far
No fringe group
Has publicly protested
This secular expression
Of a religious holiday
And for this
We are all grateful.
Perhaps they are
As bedazzled
As the rest of us,
Charmed by the lights
And the finery
And the creativity
Of minds young
And young-at-heart
Who seek only to share
The intercultural appreciation
For the season.
Whatever the reason
We pray
That they will continue
To hold their tongues
And allow us our own
Freedom of expression.
I have no problem with the joyous celebration of Christmas and the lavish expenditure on things like trees, a tradition that came out of Scandinavia. I enjoy Christmas hymns and know the melodies were often taken from bawdy barroom songs and cleaned up with good Christian lyrics. I've always enjoyed the holiday and the time it gave me to be with my friends and family. I really do doubt that this tradition you're talking about in your poem will ever be opposed. There is a colorful Christmas tree––much smaller than the ones of the past that seemed to get taller every year––on the White House lawn.
For the past two years (2006-2008) The Bridge of Silver Wings has earned a name for itself both as a series of poems published in different e-zines and as a book first published in 2007.
What makes this 2009 edition a special one is th
Ron
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