The Snow Dome
By Violet R
The glass ball stands on a
glittering forest spaced
out by wooden skies.
A bubble rests at the top,
blown by a baby fish.
Shiny as a gold coin a star
stands at the top of the tree.
It’s the North Pole on Christmas Eve.
I see a newly decorated
Christmas tree.
An excited girl in red
and a sharp beaked
penguin dance around
the tree on a jam pie floor.
Her heels lift as she
strings gold marbles
of tinsel onto the tree.
Baubles lie on the floor
like cherries and berries
decorating the pie.
Every time I shake it
the girl collects chips
and puffs of snow and
glitter points in her open arms.
The girl inside looks back at me
with my blonde bob,
but she only has black dots,
not my blue eyes.
Imagine my snow dome
was made especially
for me by Santa’s
Christmas helper.
It’s special because
it reminds me of
putting up and taking
down the Christmas
decorations
and because my
little brother Ben
gave it to me
when he was in pre-school.
It was the first present
he chose all by himself.
I smell Christmas pine
leaves and touch
the coldest snow,
sparkling because
the sun is making
its way through the clouds.
I taste the happiness of
Christmas day.
