‘The Decorator’: A Poem by Margaret Coats

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.