Dancing Shoes
by Michael Doyle

Christmas brings back faded memories,
Mostly of how we love our family.
The thing is that most of mine are dead,
And still there is what needs to be said.

I gather myself by the gravestone,
Self-aware that I'm on my own.
Thinking on how much of my life consists of smiles,
In between birth and now, I've logged a lot of miles.

Along the way, I have seen quite a lot, 
So many tiny miracles that aren't forgot,
Like my oldest daughter turning to me at the ultrasound,
And the places her sister, her, and I have found.

We often hit the open road to explore,
Sometimes playing cows without keeping score.
Everyone's a winner when you play for love,
Keeping this in mind, with God looking down from above.

Life plays out as it does without any alibis.
When you live by truth, there is no need for lies.
But it's funny how life slips on by,
And before you know it, you've given your best try.

Life hits us with the recompense of our capability.
Doing its best to teach us a lesson in responsibility,
And maybe along the way, we find our pleasures,
All the things we have kept in our fullest measure.

I remember my ballerinas as they learned to dance,
Starry eyes and dreaming of princes and romance.
It felt like just another miracle along the way.
I will always treasure their younger days.

Raising children often involves little white lies.
They are often the cure for ailments like butterflies.
We'd take in the beauty of all that we had seen,
I often said silent prayers for my two beautiful human beings.

This Christmas feels just a little bit lonely.
I know a little girl all grown up, and I wish she'd phone me.
I sit here looking at a pair of old dancing shoes,
And realize this is just another part of paying life's dues.

(c) December 17, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved