Wednesday, December 17, 2014

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"                   

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