Mistletoe and Secrets
I remember when I was small
The mistletoe hung in the hall,
I didn’t know what it was for,
But I recall clearly what I saw.
The family, gathered In fancy dress
Would all kiss each other, and to my distress,
Would give a secretive, furtive look,
when Santa gave me a colouring book,
and to this day, I remember still,
thinking he looked like Uncle Phil.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 19/December/2018
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. 🙂
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The vase of gilded roses sat, as they always had, on the sideboard in her grandmother’s neat apartment.
Next to them were the photographs of family members long gone, whose names she’d been made to commit to memory.
She had only once asked about the significance of those roses. Her grandmother’s eyes had welled with tears and so she’d changed the subject.
Their family had been prosperous and powerful once, but no one spoke of their fall from grace.
Someday, she hoped she’d have the courage to ask again and the courage to cope with her grandmother’s answers.
This was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers picture challenge:
22 February 2019
and also included the word prompts: