December 17: Another Christmas Poem, e. e. cummings, "little tree"

Another Christmas poem on this almost winter solstice night.  The snow has stopped falling, and the stars are out this evening.  It really is a silent night.  Sacred with moonlight and cold.  e. e. cummings would be the last poet I would ever imagine as having written a Christmas poem.  Of course, he did it in his own e. e. cummings way.  Very little punctuation.  Hardly any capitalization.  It's simple, almost childlike.  And beautiful.

saint marty loves e. e. cummings



little tree

by:  e. e. cummings

little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away?

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don't be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and i'll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you're quite dressed

you'll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they'll stare!

oh but you'll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we'll dance and sing

"Noel Noel"                   

VOTE FOR ME FOR U. P. POET LAUREATE (voting ends December 31):

U. P. Poet Laureate Voting