A man once lived in a globe made of glass.
It sat on a base made of shiny new brass.
Inside of this globe seemed to always be snowing.
Snowing and sleeting and drifting and blowing.
He had a small house with some trees and a yard.
A family of four with a pet St. Bernard.
At the edge of the globe, a little old train.
Would circle the town, he couldn’t complain.
He loved when it snowed, he believed it a blessing.
The big fluffy flakes were so very refreshing.
Music would play when the snow would come down.
That came from the church in the center of town.
And in the town square on those cold snowy nights.
Was a large Christmas tree all covered in lights.
T’was peaceful and calm with the square all aglow.
With the tree’s lighted branches covered in snow.
See this globe, it sat on a little girl’s shelf.
On a wall that she’d decorated all by herself.
There were posters and pictures and photos and things.
Knickknacks and tchotchkes and dolls made of strings.
But her favorite of all was the globe full of snow.
She would wind up the winder to make the train go.
And in the town square she’d watch all the people.
While the music would play, like bells from a steeple.
She would shake it all up so the snow’d start to fall.
Then set it back down on the shelf on her wall.
She’d watch while the snow fell all over the town.
She’d watch ‘til the very last flake hit the ground.
She would make it snow five times or ten times a day.
Or whenever she wanted to hear church bells play.
And the man would be proud as his little town glowed.
He’d smile at the girl as she watched while it snowed.
Now this girl, she grew older, as little girls do.
Her tastes, they were changing to things that were new.
She began to show less and less interest in toys.
Instead she was focused on clothes and on boys.
Then one day the man, well he waited and waited.
He waited all day and he sure felt deflated.
Because the girl never came to shake up the snow.
The girl never came to make the train go.
The lights didn’t light and no music was played.
With the town all in silence the man was dismayed.
He walked to the square in the center of town.
Just to find it all empty, no one around.
So the very next day, well he waited again.
He waited outside until quarter past ten.
And he waited some more as he held back his tears.
While weeks turned to months and months turned to years.
Now with nobody making it snow everyday.
The globe it got dusty, covered in gray.
He figured the girl would never come back.
The dust on the glass became grayer, then black.
The snow, it stopped falling for many a year.
That music he knew he would no longer hear.
And that train that would circle his town now and then.
Was stopped in its tracks right where it had been.
Then one Christmas morning, the man felt a small rumble.
He heard very faintly a female voice mumble.
And he watched as the glass was wiped away clean.
He watched as the globe regained its old sheen.
Then he peered out the glass and who did he see?
T’was the girl, all grown up, with a boy about three.
She picked up the globe and the winder she wound.
The music, it played and the train drove around.
She shook the globe hard and the snow began snowing.
The sleet began sleeting and the wind began blowing.
And the townspeople quickly ran to the town square.
Where the tree with its lights was still standing there.
The girl turned to her son and she said with a smile.
“Here’s a present for you to keep for a while.”
“If you wind up this winder you’ll start the train going”
“The music will play and the snow will start snowing.”
She handed it over and the little boy smiled.
She said “it used to be mine when I was a child.”
When the boy took the globe, his eyes lit up with glee.
Like the center of town, lit up by the tree.
When the boy shook the globe it snowed harder than ever.
And the man, well he hoped it would go on forever.
Because although it was cold, he knew as a whole.
A snow storm on Christmas always cleanses the soul.
The Brown Road Chronicles 
I almost like this better than the “Night Before Christmas.” Should be a classic too.
A classic? I don’t know… we’ll see, I guess.
An excellent poem!
Thank you Bard!
Love love love this!!!!
Thanks Robyn!! I really like it too.
Beautiful poem. You are a wonderful writer.
Thank you Arindam!
You are welcome. i am waiting for a new song from you. 🙂
a good read , well written
Hi James, thanks for the visit and the nice comment!
This was wonderful! I loved it. Well done, BRC!
Thank you Darla!
A truly charming piece. Well done!
Thanks Mikey!
This is a book, Steve! A wonderful children’s book! Kudos!
Wendy
Thanks Wendy! I think it would make a good book too.
Christmas Awesome….
Thanks Donna!!
Screen play, hello?
A screen play would be fun!! Let’s worry about a book first, perhaps.
It was beginning to remind me of Toy Story, where you feel sorry for the girls ignored doll, who eventually gets donated (which drew my have tears in the dark theater). But then it was refreshed with a happy ending! Nicely done, and yes, a good little childrens christmas book idea is in this, I agree.
Don’t feel bad, I cried during Toy Story as well. Thanks Spectra!
Steve, a lovely BIG poem 🙂 but i think you could set it to music.
Love this so much. Made me cry. Go get it published, please. I think it would be one of my son’s favorites. I’ll make it into a song for you! 🙂
Thanks Emily. Sure would love to get it published, just not really sure how to go about that. I’m glad it made you cry, that means it’s a good story! 🙂
It didn’t make me cry or anything, but well done … well done. (bowing lowly and doffing cap)
It’s not a poem, is it? It’s a song. I can hear the music.
Given your sense of humor, I half expect the little boy to drop the toy at the end. :{
Wonderful! This gave me chills and tears!
Simply beautiful. I’ve read a lot of poetry over the years (I used to be an editor) and the one thing that hangs me up every time is that most poetry doesn’t read well out loud. It’s hard to capture just the right tone, the right essence, the right pace, and carry it through stanza after stanza.
And you did just that.
You told a story — beginning, middle and end — and I felt your emotions pour through the words. Your use of repetition was right on. Wonderfully done.
I can see this poem as a children’s book. Have you published your writing before? You should. It’s great. I would read this to my children.
Hi Melissa, thank you for the very kind comments. To answer your question, I have written a few things that people have said “you should get that published” but no, I have not published anything. Not that I don’t want to, I just really don’t know how to go about it. I have sent a few things to agents and publishers over the last year but I feel like I’m just kind of floundering along. Perhaps you could offer some insights as a former editor??
Reblogged this on MysteryCoach and commented:
Awww 🙂
Honey. I have a friend who may have information as to publishing things. Do you want me to ask him?
beautiful poem. Loved it!!
I pictured myself, all tucked up warm in my bed
My mom reading a poem while I smiled as she read
And when she was done, my heart was quite smitten
For the poem of a snow globe was wonderfully written!
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This is my favorite I’ve the ones I’ve read so far! 🙂
I love this one too!!