Twas the night before Christmas and the ether was still:
No mails in my inbox and, for once, time to kill.
I thought as I sat there how peaceful things were
Now that fellow researchers had gone off the air.

A chance to get back to the old family tree,
Its roots and its branches so familiar to me;
To browse through the photos collected with care -
Who is this young lady with long flowing hair?

If only some person had written her name
On the back of the picture, with her claim to fame.
But silent she stays, her story untold,
And the lady herself will never grow old.

Caught in that moment with delicate grace,
The photographer's art has captured her face.
Her hand it rests gently on the curve of a chair,
And her lips they smile sweetly, her tresses are fair.

The lace of her bodice is daintily made,
The rose at her waist it, too, will not fade.
Transfixed like a butterfly under a glass,
My mystery lady has watched the years pass,

Content in her secret she smiles still on me;
Of her fascination I'll never be free:
For she is a symbol of all that is past;
Eternal, enduring, the spell that she casts,

Enticing me onward to searches anew,
Reminding me always that time it is few,
To write down the story before it's too late
And share it with others: the facts and the dates,

The names and the places, the joys and the tears
Of all of my ancestors spanning the years.
For one day a picture is all that I'll be,
But my words will remain for others to see.

--oOo--- --oOo--- --oOo--- --oOo--- --oOo---

Mole wishes all GENEALOGY WORLD visitors

A Very Happy and Peaceful Christmas

and Successful Digging in the New Year

© Rosemary Dixon-Smith Dec 2005