Ken's Poetry

If You Were There

If never falls the Christmas snow
nor swells the robin’s breast
to go a carolling,
if never flies the Christmas light
in shimmering dance around the spruce –
so fine apparelling,
if on the day the table stood
undressed of turkey, wine and pud,
nor crackers snap nor candles flare
it would not be too much to bear
if you were there …
if you were there.