A poem about a man named Farber and his evening on Christmas Eve. |
Old Man Farber was an old English man, With his round spectacles and pocket watch in his hand. The day was beginning dim, with Old Saint Nick coming 'round, For only now, was the light setting upon his glowing red town. With children running home, on the red brick road, Farber closed his book shop, filled with novels and odes. With his hand knit scarf, and wooden cane, Did Farber see his family, standing as if they had encountered a bane. As they suddenly waved and called, he gave a warm smile back, And when he walked in, he encountered a Christmas snack. By this was followed a piping hot meal, with a table set for four. As the family sat around the table and Farber opened the door, Farber excused himself, and quickly went downstairs. He tiptoed straight down, as his family said prayers. Quietly placing small presents and filled the stockings with treats, For the next morning, Mrs. Farber would give a hug and call him sweet. As he came back up, was his family sitting there, As Farber said, "Shall we take this evening, right down stairs?". He opened a fire, and with a leather bound cover, Read Farber, for he was a great book lover. So there sat the family, roasting chestnuts on an open fire, As every year, this night they desired. |