All I Want for Christmas…

Our family drew names at Thanksgiving for Christmas giving. When I thought about what I wanted for Christmas from my Secret Santa, what came to me was our last trip to Ireland and the memorable Irish breakfasts we enjoyed at B & B, after B & B, after B & B. But how could I write that experience down on a small piece of paper?

All I Want for Christmas…

For Christmas I want an Irish breakfast
of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs
and freshly baked soda bread that satisfies
something deeper than simply taste,
a broiled tomato halved––Don’t forget that.

No vapid boiled cabbage, with milk and
potatoes and meat for high tea. No, it’s
the breakfast, the Irish breakfast with Yeats’
Lake Isle of Innisfree printed on napkins ample
for spills or for blotting sentimental tears

as someone reads, “I will arise and go now,
and go to Innisfree,” while I dip a buttered
crust in the hot black tea.

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2 thoughts on “All I Want for Christmas…

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