Thanksgiving napkins were put away. The holders on the table stayed. Soon the silver fingers were seen holding folds of red and green. The turkey made of paper brown from the front door was taken down. Its hanging hook left to hold. Salutations from verses old. A cornucopia the table graced. Now holly candles take its place. Surrounded by snowflake mats, replacing those with pilgrim hats. Pie plates now empty and still. Again the coming days would fill.  And dishes stored with edges blue made way for those of brighter hue. Mantle memories aside they lay, making room for deer and sleigh. And shifting over the old I van made a spot where the tree would stand.  And old attic boxes taken down, Christmases of the past were found. And from the backyard storage shed grew a front porch manger bed. November blew the odd trees bare.But soon December white they'd wear, and in a season growing cold, it's Christmas, and a never changing story told. 

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