From there atop our Christmas tree
she sits each year for you and me,
her angel eyes have watched and seen
the making of our Yuletide scene.
Up there she watched our first two boys
unwrapping not yet gifted toys,
deep into one Christmas Eve's night,
then put them back before first light.
And there she saw chocolate coins
munched by boys who, having rejoined
the edges of their golden wrap,
sat smiling with a toothy gap.
Even more boys' toys did appear
underneath her angelic stare,
until there came one Christmas Eve,
dolls and pram for her to perceive.
So, now there are but just a few
fine gifts for us within her view.
But yet, what do I really care,
for all I need is you right here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bravo! H E Bravo! ! !