The Decorator
I live to decorate for Christmastide.
My summer birthday barely means a thing
As I count Christmases new glorified
By fir or pine or spruce, encouraging
My spirits as I check bulbs on each string
Inherited. At last, tired colors died,
And free to choose, I bought a promising
Array of golden spheres. I’m satisfied.
Tall tree (and tiny one for me) inside;
Outdoors yearlong, clips, hooks and braces ring
Roof edges to support electrified
Lights bright, symmetric, warm and welcoming.
Here sparkling snowflakes by design I fling,
And hedges glow like rainbows multiplied,
The neighbors’ grinch and deer outrivaling,
While I preside with smiles intensified.
Good cheer prevails around the starry-skied
Domain, then deep within we search and bring
Out loads of handmade trimmings countryfied,
Collections from our travels varying,
And oddities of ornaments that cling
To hearts, but crush tree branches when I’ve tried
Too many. Tastefully embellishing
Both home and yard gives honor magnified
To Jesus, infant Light, the angels’ King.
Margaret Coats lives in California. She holds a Ph.D. in English and American Literature and Language from Harvard University. She has retired from a career of teaching literature, languages, and writing that included considerable work in homeschooling for her own family and others.
Hello , Margaret C.
How thoroughly you will enjoy the month of December with your lovely Christmas display! I enjoyed your poetic descriptions.
Thank you, Margaret B., we enjoyed the display for the first time last night, on sitting down to dinner with much of the work done. Refinements during December, perhaps!
I would love to see your front yard at Christmas time. No doubt it outrivals your neighbors yard and glorifies our infant King.
Many thanks, Roy. There is a certain rivalry with the neighbors–three styles competing and combining delightfully. The creche has its own special glory indoors, increasing day by day. Viva Cristo Rey de Los Angeles!
Here we have, among other things, a smile-inducing catalogue of small beauties and a justification, if any is required, of domestic decoration or of ornament in general. It brings back memories (everybody will say that) not by exhaustive lists but by a fond and selective recital of items and family customs that are meaningful to you–and this is accomplished by such a smooth and enviable command of language: you mean to say something gracefully and you can say it, no problem. Or, if you have a problem, it has vanished by the time the poem reaches your readers. The finished product is itself an ornament. As the title of the poem suggests, the value of the decoration is as much for the joy of the decorator as for the pleasure of any admiring visitors. Thus it’s another kind of art, wouldn’t you say? Thanks for sharing these colored lights of language.
Thank you, Bhikku Nyanasobhano, for a very beautiful comment. You are right that no justification is needed for ornament. In the winter season, when there is naturally less light and color, it is fitting and naturally cheering to decorate with lights, and to bring evergreens into the home. I have just finished making a table wreath of very prickly holly that grows in my back yard. It gives me personal joy, and marks the time of year for my family. And yes, the arts of language that color the season for others including yourself, are equally satisfying. Your compliments on my abilities are very kind and very much valued.
The reason given for Christmas decoration comes in line 25, an extra line when the poem’s three stanzas of eight lines each are considered. I favor numerology, and thus the 25th line with the name of Jesus refers to celebration of his birth on December 25. It’s a small surprise following the practicalities and pleasures of decoration, just as the birth itself was obscure and hidden despite its immense importance. Thank you again for your opinion that the finished poem is itself an ornament!
A delightful poem – and I really like its underlying premise: actually, that the birth of someone else is more significant than our own birth! In our current culture, that really is a big shift. Also, the diction, the rhyming and the enjambment is ‘tastefully embellishing’ – very lovely indeed. Thanks – I hadn’t yet got into Christmas mode, but now I feel it coming on!
Glad you feel that Christmas mode coming on, James. It is a season when someone else’s birthday assumes very great importance! I hadn’t explicitly noticed my own underlying premise here, so thank you for pointing it out.
And for finding the embellishments tasteful. That’s of the essence in our outdoor decoration, and I’m very pleased it comes through in the poem about them.
One of the striking traits of Mrs. Coats’ verse is its intricacy. At times, in that, her verse rivals that of Edward Taylor (1642-1729). Just that alone is amazing here in the NewMillennium: “My summer birthday barely means a thing/ As I count Christmases new glorified/ By fir or pine or spruce, encouraging/ My spirits as I check bulbs on each string/ Inherited.” I particularly like the Dickinsonian anchor.
As for the slightest of jars, L21—so smoothly inserted—these “oddities of ornaments that cling/ To hearts” is a nice touch. The title is most appropriate, while the final line addresses the poem’s thematic salutation: “To Jesus, infant Light, the angels’ King”.
Thank you, Bruce. I don’t know much of Edward Taylor, except that his imagery is said to be derived from domestic or agricultural things familiar to persons where he lived. This poem has something of that sort. As for intricacy (in this and other poems of mine), I think you mean confidence in good sentence structure and grammar to convey ideas–with the quoted sentence of more than four lines as an example. That does take an equal confidence of mine in readers willing to pay attention! And it may have to do with my own attentive reading of English and foreign language poetry from the past. It’s not uncommon, as you know, for classical poets of earlier periods to draw out a sentence for 8 or 10 lines, or for an entire long stanza. I appreciate as well your notice of title and theme and smoothness. Hope you’re smoothly preparing for a merry Christmas.
As I sit here listening to three CDs of Christmas music, your poem brings a smile to my face and many a fond memory. My word, those old Christmas lights where when one blew, you had to check them all individually before replacing the culprit. And the real Christmas tree, that gradually shed its needles which had to be hoovered up every day and hurt like heck if you walked over them.
Thanks for the read, Margaret.
Back in the old days, Paul, my father drove out of town to some woodsy place where he could cut down a tree without apparently making a difference in the landscape. It was never well shaped with branches capable of holding ornaments, but it was real. I now pay a good price with nostalgic gratitude to the growers. Much greater is my wonder at the decorating talents of my daughter and the young neighbors, each with their own visions of winter wonderlands. Glad the poem is able to give you smiles and fond memories!
This certainly paints a vivid picture that even I can see in my mind. The use of only “ide” and “ing” rhymes tied everything together, much as the perfect array of golden spheres might do.
Yes, Warren, the lights on the tree or around the house need to look symmetrically arranged! Once I had “ide” (an easy rhyme) for the first line, I found another (“ing”) for the second and looped them alternately from there, making sure there was at least a light stress on each final syllable. A Christmas display can have slight irregularities, but I’m glad the sway of the while gives you that vivid picture. Thanks for reading and taking time to comment.
Oh my goodness, this is such a charming and beautifully crafted poem. I loved reading it. You have such a natural way of blending warmth, humor, and reverence all in one flow — and the structure itself feels so classic and intentional.
Your imagery is incredibly vivid and specific.
Lines like “hedges glow like rainbows multiplied” and “clips, hooks and braces ring / roof edges” make the whole scene come alive. I could actually see the lights, the trees, the little decorations tucked everywhere. It felt like stepping into the home of someone who truly lives for this season.
I especially loved the playfulness in your details. The “tiny one for me,” the neighbors being “outrivaled,” and the ornaments that “crush tree branches when I’ve tried too many” — these touches add such personality. They made me smile and made the poem feel deeply human.
The closing shift is beautiful. The way you gently turn the decorations into an act of honoring Jesus — “infant Light, the angels’ King” — gives the whole poem a sense of rootedness. It’s not just decoration for decoration’s sake; it’s devotion expressed through beauty. That landing felt both tender and profound.
And honestly, the word choice is just delightful. You’ve woven in words like “countryfied,” “electrified,” “glorified,” and “magnified” in a way that keeps the poem warm, rhythmic, and full of personality without ever feeling forced.
Overall, it’s creative, heartfelt, and wonderfully original. You really captured the spirit behind Christmas decorating — the nostalgia, the fun, the labor, the meaning — and turned it into something luminous.
Thank you for sharing it. It genuinely made me smile.
Thank you so very much, Nicole, for this warm and hearty compliment. You’re specific and vivid about qualities that truly beautify Christmas for many of us. I’m happy you find playfulness and personality and humor and reverence here. I’m grateful for the time and trouble you take in careful reading and in writing out a thorough response. A very merry Christmas season to you!
A nice dramatic monologue you give us, not just cheerful, but ebullient — perfect for the season. You hint at some friendly rivalry and labor, but none of it eclipses the joy throughout. And at the end you bring us the reason for all the joy – the Incarnation of the King of Angels Himself.
Thanks so much, Adam. It was a joy even to think of writing this. The outdoor labor is exhilarating and the rivalry is definitely friendly. One neighbor just took down the stately “tree” he had re-purposed from ghostly flowing Halloween leftovers, so I can tell he’s working on something still more brilliant. We’ll be watching and maybe adding to what we’ve done as celebration comes closer!
Margaret,
What a fun poem to read. The excitement is felt. I especially like the end, which gives the reason for the excitement and effort.
It gets exciting every evening when we press the switch that makes it all go on. And think more and more of the upcoming celebration of spirit!