I saw the Ghost of Christmas past, glide by our lighted tree.
Her arms were filled with dolls and toys and all were meant for me.
I sensed the rustle of her skirt her blouse was trimmed with lace, and
when she turned to smile at me she wore my mother's face.
How swiftly fly the rainbow years, like splintered shafts of light, as
fragile, as the gentle ghosts' who whispers in the night.
I draw my children into my arms and hold this moment fast, against
the time my face will be their ghosts of Christmas past.
Merry Christmas to all.
Johnette Barnes Miller
Published by Someones Sister
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This actually came to pass. She passed the weekend after her birth and left a boy fifteen for me. He sees me now and then with questions of his mother he loved so dear. I tell him everything we talked about and what she told me to do about it.


8 Comments
Post a Commentbeautiful tribute. I have never lost a sibling, but I have buried a husband and 2 sons, I fell for your loss..Thank you for sharing, God Bless
very nice sister :)
Very nice. I'm sure you sister would be very proud.
this is a good one..love it!
Thought provoking! Delightful! Prescience or presumption?
SO HEART FELT
Great words to be sure.
GREAT TRIBUTE AND LOVING WORDS...LOVE YA SIS!