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© 12-25-97
by Steve Wessels
to my wife Carol

This poem is simply meant to be

a stocking stuffer, for, you see,

you didnít buy our socks in time

for me to buy you things that rhyme.


The gifts for kids took all my cash,

there wasnít the means to build your stash

of baubles and trinkets with great care,

Iím sorry you didnít get your share.


But in your Christmas Sock this year

beats a heart that beats with cheer,

a heart that beats with yours each night,

and thanks God for such great delight.


Your sock holds no tangible thing,

but wait to see what next year brings,

a year of hopes and prayers and dreams,

I trust the Lord, Heíll bring in reams.


Then come next Christmas Eve and Day,

we will look back in awe and say:

Your empty sock was filled with hope Ė

and with this poem from your dear dope.



PERMISSION FOR USE: The following may be reprinted without prior permission for non-commercial use on the condition that the text is not changed and credit is given for the copyright.


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