How often we forget
from whence we came,
with all our earthly trappings.
When our house was filled
with worldly goods and
bundles of Christmas wrappings.
The dark days came and
the thunder roared, and
the goods we had no more.
Of those who came and
shared our home, no longer
knocks at our door.
When all was well and
the future bright and of
plenty there was no end.
The one I seldom saw at my table,
or making constant demands,
I discovered were my friends.
I am bless to have true friends
on Christmas.
And God is my best friend.
Poetic Verses By Gamaliel H. Gooding
Copyrighted 2013
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