Can’t think about the Year that didn’t last
Can’t fight the time and how it passed so fast…
Voices were cheerful that night
Everyone was full of silver light
I heard the sounds but didn’t care
I couldn’t help but only think and stare…
I dreamed of love that possibly I’ll never share
And of life that was just like a fairytale.
In that second of complete despair
I saw the moon and realized it was all a dare
Then your voice whispered in my ear
Promising me all I needed to hear…
Let frigid winter come,
it feels nice to be lonesome,
seeing myself snuggled up
in a comfort blanket holding a cup
of cocoa by this warm fireplace...
while the wanderer's frozen face
is dotted with the whitest snowflakes
as he rubs his red, freckled nose!
Isn't this an unforgettable moment
to delight me feeling the thrill
of the Season with its distinct chill?
Isn't this the magic of Christmas
when joy is felt in a calm land
by the sound of chiming bells?
Let frigid winter come and cover everything in glistening, deep snow,
and 'though the evening will not have the moon's glow,
brightness can lead my footsteps really far...
shouldn't I play a Christmas song on this guitar?
I will go from house to house and knock on every door...
tingle everyone with great joy by spreading the message of the Savior!
I'm very confident that going back home
stars will gleam and children will roam:
singing, shouting, swirling and throwing heavy snowballs;
happy angels will be heard on gelid gulls,
but who minds waiting in the bitter cold...
when a Divine Child comes down to redeem the sinful world?
Entered in Carol Sunshine Brown's contest,
" Fire And Ice "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 12/ 3/ 2012
On Roman ruled British isle, to the deacon and his wife fair;
On a beautiful morn, our Patrick was born, in a forth century lair
Young and bright as a button; taken by knavish raiders - not fair
At tender age sixteen, long time not be seen, a dutiful slave to Eire
God spoke to devoted Patrick in a dream on this Emerald Isle
Boarded ship and set sail, in Britain to tell the tale; Gaul: priesthood and file
In 432, back to Eire to convert the pagans worshiping even a rock
To explain the Holy Trinity, enlightening them till affinity, he used the shamrock
Pat inspired the Irish festival, history tells his colour was blue,
The wearing of the Green, even if one can't keen - Skyfest invites all parties true
Sung by a tone deaf (they all were) mistrel, tanked up on green beer
See the About section for details on which this poem was based. Thank you.
Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms:
This metre (BALLAD METRE) may also be interpreted (and sometimes printed) as a couplet of seven-stress lines, as in Kipling's ‘Ballad of East and West’ (1889):
of the American
celebrate on Labor day
of the past
to build a
for those descendants to
This Labor Day
reflect on the
we've gone through
over the last
couple of hundred years
The late Studs Terkel
knew this well
He is gone
but left a legacy for us
Whatever you do for a living
you should be honored on
and take a minute or two
to think about
those how have
so that the rest of us
can have a better life
HAPPY LABOR DAY
Hussshhhh of the sea breeze
Bolobok Cave nears it
Rain drops falling on my face
Trim down my long pony-tailed hair
Small crabs crawling over the brownish sand surface
Small stones scattered over
Small caves with limestone
And having freshwater downstairs
Said there were ladders to climb and unclimb
To see the down caves
Now in a mysterious looks waiting for renovations
Where are these caretakers of nature?
The beauty of eye lenses looking at it
Please come and rescue this whispering ambiance of serenity
For generations to enjoy
If this is an early human settlement
Come take your responsibility
Oh the caretakers please come
3 January 2013
Early Human Settlement
Bolobok Cave (Sungab Bulubuk)
Bongao, Tawi-Tawi Island
On Roman ruled British isles,
On a sunny morn
Forth century on the day of Ides
Our Patrick was born
To the deacon and his wife fair;
A beautiful morn
And priest grandfather who care’
Their Patrick was born
He, young and bright as a button
This could be clearly seen
Was Patrick the lad and glutton
Tall for his age at sixteen
Taken as a slave to nearby Eire
At tender age sixteen
by knavish raiders – this not fair
Long time not to be seen
God visited Patrick in a dream
On this Emerald Isle
When revealed to him to stream
Patrick broke rank and file
He boarded a ship and set sail
left this unwelcome isle
In Britain to tell all the tale
Then Gaul - priesthood and file
In 432, back to Eire to convert them
A land green with shamrock
From their polytheism to stem
Worshiping even a rock
To explain the Holy Trinity
He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
They accepted *The Rock
To explain the Holy Trinity
He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
They accepted The Rock
They are wearing the Green
They are wearing the Green...
*Rock of Ages
21 January 2013
If you call all the time.
Place your love on the line.
I'll hear your voice in my ear.
You'll find it's perfectly clear.
To be my Valentine..
If you send me your heart.
It will give me a start.
Send your love if you dare.
You will find that it's fair.
To be my Valentine..
If you show me your love.
I will fly like a dove.
I will show no fear.
You will find it sincere.
To be my Valentine..
Valentine Poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1983,2014.All Rights Reserved.
The air is sweet, the sky is clear
I know for sure that summer’s near
Pass my sandals and shades my dear
I’ve joy in my heart and nothing to fear
Winter was dark and long and cold
Not even the sun could break its cruel mould
It rained so hard I’m glad my house could hold
But when winter ended, my heart turned to gold
I’m searching a good spot, my place in the sun
I’m yearning for laughter, compassion and fun
To stretch my long legs, see how far I can run
To find my soul mate - and say “You’re the One”
Well I’ve found a good spot, I’m searching no more
I’m laughing and running until I’m sore
My heart has mended, its really not raw
Now I can say “This is what I’ve been looking for!”
Another harsh Winter we must face
It Matters not, no one can escape Fate
Not Even The Gods
With Bravery we shall Stand Strong
In Care we shall advance onto Vigrid
Fenrir Will Lay dead
By Dawn's Perch
Trim Your Nails, to Prevent Naglfar
It's time to suit up; We Are The Einherjar
Protector's of Ragnorak
The Army of The Gods
The Lovers of Valhalla
All of Midgard will sing
Of our triumph and their Defeat
Sadly all will come, In a twinkling
To An Utter End
Madi, Magni, Sons of Thor
Balder, Hod, Residence of Hel
Lif, Lifthasir, of Yggdrasil
Do us well
Remembrance of our noble deeds
Is all well enough
Sing the Song
We Are The Einherjar
A Streetlight’s Prayer
How shall the torrent of light from
Other men’s redemption spent be divided, shared?
Can I be spared from such a valid question seeking
What measure shall I take this night for day; timeless
In lesser stances set to shield all in swift decay – what shall
Our evenings last breath yield?
Grant us nightly in this sodium dot municipality’s system timings?
For in lungs deep recesses lurk the brightest idea.
Yes, I concede this value timing blue; how succinct is all that seems to fall from
splendor, the way my brother’s mark their time; oh, how I ache to know their boundaries,
The toll their souls must pass; I long of finding that seam
Within their dreams that turns our current inside- out; how unrelenting it all seems—how
they stave the waves of circumstance driven down by lesser demons;
How shall I embrace them all?
Will time run against the grain upon which sleek causation seeks to slip me up?
This is all His doing, is it not?
What others bring and lay upon his feats of commerce,
Of movement, of joy!
Yes, for better be is all ado;
This is my truest hope for you: For I see it all now so
Clearly as the flares, which line the highway: how great this has all been…
How great this will – if eye only let it – be.
The heart of Hersonnisos, the Isle of Crete
In a place so full of allure
Up on a hill, in the midst of the sea
Lies the heavenly Kreta Natur
The beautiful gardens, the flowers and trees
Rockeries made from stone
Views that will bring a tear to your eye
All give you the feeling of home
Side by side, Maria and George
Together they work as a team
So many years of labour and love
It’s taken to build their dream
Nurtured and tended by loving hands
Such relaxation you feel
When you arrive, the lovely warm smiles
And welcome they give you is real
Marias cooking, so lovely to taste
Her chicken, the best as of yet
BBQ night prepared by George
Is one you will never forget
But…one thing is true, when your holiday’s done
And you know that its times to fly
Year after year you will always return
So it’s never really goodbye…
For George and Maria...amazing people and the perfect hosts
Some think that happiness is having lots of things,
I dispute your mundane point of view and come Christmas Eve,
I would like to ride my sleight and be Santa for a night...
but I would need the fastest reindeers, not four wheels;
and down dark chimneys, I would quietly slide and soon leave
through the front door like a thief who's getting away in dim light.
I had better not see some of you peak behind a door,
you must be fully asleep, otherwise no presents at all;
I fear that not many will heed what I am saying and to those
kids listening: more gifts I'll put under their fireplace,
but to the ones who are disobedient, nothing I will give!
Hurry to bed and make those wishes and in me believe!
I hear someone giggling, not taking me seriously when I fantasize,
and just because I have a beard and white hair like your grandpa does,
it doesn't mean I am not fit to ride as a young man can and be on time...
tonight nothing can stop me from being Santa for a night:
I must hurry and load my sacks on this sleight and riding away!
Look! I am riding over towns and cities, mountains and seas...I will arrive!
No evening has ever been so quite, every street is buried in deep snow,
lampposts twinkle replacing the invisible lovely stars, only owls eyes glow...
ah, its a ghost town before midnight...usually kids stay out late and have snow fights!
Ah, slick children they are hiding behind windows with eyes as bright as lights!
But feeling their little anxious hearts beat, I shouldn't be as hard as a rock...
all this lonely, old man desires is to wish all Happy Holidays and be Santa for a night!
He seems like jolly Santa driving a beat-up car
loaded with lots of presents and while driving
he'll be caroling, greeting everyone waving
at him; and they should put on happy faces,
be kind to each other and exchange embraces...
never thinking it's old-fashioned and bizarre!
O Yule giver, reach out with your kindness,
it's the Holiday Season...why be so greedy,
and not share with the ones less fortunate?
O Yule giver, touch them with your generosity
and they will once again believe in love, not hate!
O Yule give, touch everyone's heart with your gifts!
The festive avenues are the mirror of wonderland,
shops displaying animated figures with merry eyes,
as music plays in a background of twinkling lights;
why shoppers are in such a rush...will the sales soon end?
Look at you, Yule giver...you ring your golden, glittering bell
and spread the Christmas cheer: you have a story to tell!
O Yule giver, remind them who will be born tomorrow:
a Savior and King to take away their pangs of sorrow,
will they believe you and gather around to listen?
They may have never heard of His birth announced by trumpets:
was a stable fit for a heavenly king who God had gladly chosen?
But why such humbleness from above...to instill love in proud hearts?
O Yule giver, you will dazzle and amaze them with a reading from the Holy Book,
and if all stopped and heard of the Nativity story Herod hated:
the smiling babe, who wears no crown would certainly look,
and invite them in to worship Him whom a virgin conceived...
O Yule giver, proclaim the Shepherd who promises eternal joy:
seeing no color or race, but welcomes everyone into the kingdom of endless glory!
Entered in Linda-Marie's contest,
" Holiday Hearth "
Written by Andrew Crisci
Silver moonbeams shine from the full moon
On a Halloween night.
Trick or treaters weave back and forth collecting candy
And other assorted goodies on this
Beautiful Halloween night.
Scary stories are told around a fireplace.
A witch flies on a broom across the moon cackling
On this beautiful Halloween night.
A midnight breeze blows through the trees
On this beautiful Halloween night.
A vampire lurks in the shadows looking for prey
On this beautiful Halloween night.
Feys and faeries dance across the silver moonbeams
on this beautiful Halloween night
With all the world a thousand feet below
'Twas the morn on New Year's Day:
And 'neath a shining weightless wing,
The sea cliffs steep of Botany Bay.
Thus there we were in old Sydney Town
New drunk on expectation to come!
Taxied through her sleepless city streets
And in haste made for the colosseum
There she was - that vast noble edifice -
Mortals did her sidewalks pound.
Through those gates the arena roared
Inside the Sydney Cricket Ground!
And later that balmy night wandered
On dark and faceless streets lost,
But ever closer drew the burning lights
In the noisy heart of King's Cross
Among the pushers, hookers, and pimps,
The city underbelly we did follow:
Bordellos, dives, strip joints, and bars...
Well Rich and I, we took in a show!
At first light the heights of Centrepoint
With its towering crow's nest view:
Behold that eucalyptus haze in the west,
To the east the sea off Bondi so blue
Away Port Jackson shoal to Sydney Cove
Where convicts and mariners sailed:
The tall ships that her garrison moored
Unloaded those from Albion jailed.
And upon fine granite cathedral walls
A new age do new virtues espouse:
Its geometrical tinted topaz glass arcing
Shining on that grand Opera House
Plotted destination - the Capital Territory,
And a disappearing lake's rivermouth:
Through hinterland plains and gorges deep
And Snowy Mountains to the south.
Then onward in our journey far we went
At the wheel of our V6 Commodore,
Over "The Bridge" up the Pacific Highway
On seawatch north to Maroochydore
To Byron Bay, Coolangatta, Surfers rode
The adventures of Skeet and Rich!
And after a thousand miles at our backs
It was an "Onya" hot son-of-a-*****!
On arrival at Cotton Tree a cold brew
Into the night did a desert thirst abate:
And with a tinny here and Sambuca there
We got fair dinkum messy, mate!
Everyone is with someone else they can't stay apart,
and this sadness shouldn't be mine today or ever...
because His birth makes light much brighter
in this lonely soul searching for comfort,
and that's why I'm loudly singing for Jesus: my Redeemer!
What I feel comes from a heart that desperately
desires its tears to erase what has been its yesterday,
and loudly singing for Jesus: my Redeemer does me good;
praising His coming and proclaiming Him my Lord!
Nobody more than I...has the urge to be consoled,
when arms don't open to welcome me inside;
and His mighty arms, although trembling and small,
open up in loving gesture to greet my call!
Come Jesus, friend of gentle hearts and kind souls,
spend Your day telling me what is in store for me;
how Heaven echoes of the angelic, eternal voices...
unlikely the earth that waits for a Savior to end its misery!
Without instrument, music sheets, or choir on a snowy day:
I'm loudly singing for Jesus...my Redeemer in the simplest way,
and my gladness is expressed in every verse of my song;
oh, how I'd like to thrill baby Jesus with the words I sing!
I'm loudly singing for Jesus...my Redeemer,
as I shiver under the cold sky of December!
Don't ask for presents
and check your stockings
hanging by the fire place where the log crackles;
you are in for a big surprise this quite evening:
kids, dance with Santa on snowy Christmas's Eve...
put on the best smile and hear the reindeer's bells!
Kids, dance with Santa and swing your legs and arms 'till you fall;
jump up, go around once, stop, jump up, go around twice,
until his tired feet ache and you laugh at his funny groans!
Get the hang of it, dance with him he's so nice...
hold on, stay on the dance floor...see Santa's belly bounce!
Kids, dance with Santa and sing a lovely carol!
Don't complain like grouches, and tell him he's another chubby Grinch;
he is a different kind of Santa...he doesn't bring any expensive gifts!
Oh, no Santa is not stingy, just the oldest messenger of good cheers;
you may be disappointed a lot, but please don't tarnish his image!
He came here to teach you the new Christmas dance with rhythm;
watch his steps and learn to dance within the allowed range!
I don't like those long faces, kids dance with Santa on this Christmas Eve;
you'll forget about your presents expectations...you wouldn't want to leave!
Entered in Deborah Guzzi's Holiday Songs In Poetry Form. Style: Moderate Rock Ballad.
I will set my song to music and publish it next year. I doesn't have a melody to be sung
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
In the slip stream of your soul
Maybe for only a few moments
But worth every second
Every class 5 rapids that we've had
And came out alive at the end
The heavy current of love didn't
Because love is
The cetripetal force that holds us
I Remember the Day
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
I can remember the day like yesterday,
When the snowfall brought much glee,
One Florida church made a wish that year.
Flakes of snow they wanted to see.
Praying with hope, they entreated their God,
Asking together on knees.
“We are so poor and no gifts will there be
For the Christmas tree this year,”
But they trusted in Heavenly Father's love.
I in their eyes great faith saw--
There were dreams that they dreamed and truly believed
“Send Christmas snow, God please.”
To show their great faith in God for the snow,
Paper snowflakes one by one,
Appeared each day in the bright sunlight
Thrilling, enchanting, and fun.
Then, many other people came,
When the snowflakes they did see,
They stayed to pray with those poor that day.
Snowflakes taped where others could see.
Some people not nearly as faithful as these
Came mocking the poor folks’ glee.
And that was the reason (as many know,
In this place of poverty)
That the snow wish to God was repeated
Saying, “Snowflakes, send to us please.”
And the snowflakes they cut for the window with care
Were like snowflakes school children make
With glittery paper of white
And one of the mockers that came there to fight
Remembered the good Lord above
Then, joined in the joy shared that night
And helped make many snowflakes with love.
Thus, Christmas never comes that I don't think about
The snowflakes that appeared one by one.
For the wish that they made was like no other wish
Those poor who had faith to believe
And all that they asked for from Father above
Were snowflakes in Florida showing God's love.
And that's what He gave them Christmas Day.
In the snow that God gave children played.
This is based on a true story... It took place at a State Welfare Office, not a Church.
On the eastern grade of the switcher yard down at Medicine Hat
There’s a tendency for cars to roll toward the Dunmore hill
Back when I was switching trains there one got loose on me
Sit a spell and grip your seat for the beans I'm about to spill
There were only four boxcars no engine or caboose
A couple of flat decks at the tail
In all six cars were loose
I caught up to it quick enough
Jumped on and tied a hand brake down
Well that didn’t do a gosh darn thing
Get back down on the ground
Outrun that headless train I mean, catch up to the next car
Jump on again tie down the brake and again she barely felt it
Jump off again and back to running
A boxcar now outrun it
Jump on again what’s this a ladder
Yes the brake’s up there
Up the ladder tie the brake
Not much effect so far
Down again onto the ground
Out run the next boxcar
Climb onto and up it like a boxcar acrobat
Crank another hand brake on
She's slowing how about that
Outrun the next and then the next
My very last handbrake
If this one doesn’t stop these cars
I’ll surely take the cake
A train is coming into town right down the Dunmore Hill
Won’t they be surprised if these cars decide to spill
I crank the brake she squeals and moans
Small train now comes to rest
Big train goes by and the cars are clear
The engine-man can see
He blows the horn whips off his hat
And just shakes his head at me
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
Have a merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
May this very Christmas
Be filled with holiday cheer
Let everyday be Christmas
For the rest of the year
And have a merry Christmas
Filled with holiday cheer (Chorus)
To all of those we know, to all of those we love
To those we have seen grow and like to kiss and hug
To our new family members and old familiar friends
Attached to the presents, written in the cards we send
Season's greetings and warm wishes with so much care
And good tidings of great joy I bring in this little prayer
To all those you'll see and to those who'll pass by you
To all those you'll meet and to those you'll say "Hi" to
Acquaintances and strangers, the homeless and shut in
Remember them like family and treat them like your friends
Give them season's greetings, warm wishes with so much care
And gold tidings of great joy bring to them in this little prayer
But do not let it end, live a life of love and cheer
In and out of season share it in the New Year
It's early Christmas' Eve, snow steadily falls
and Santa leaves the North Pole
with his breath steaming in the frigid cold...
while the reindeers wiggle their tails;
he re-checks his long and neat list,
remembering another child's wish!
Santa, old Santa with the longest beard
and waving brittle hair whitest than snow,
many may think you look out-dated and weird:
have you forgotten to put on your cap.
and wrapped the wool scarf around your neck?
Santa, old Santa, take a minute before you go!
An over-loaded sleight can't make
over the mountains, valleys and lakes
if the the tired reindeers don't stay awake,
so Santa add two more to the sleight
to make sure that all kids receive a gift
before midnight...to avoid them heart-breaks!
Santa, old Santa flashing the biggest laughter
that make your actual age disappear,
much joy is needed around the globe,
because everyone puts materialism before love...
forgetting that's easy to erase all greed:
thinking less of themselves, and doing a good deed!
It's ten minutes to midnight, and Santa notices something so strange:
a house without lights, and there he makes his first stop;
in a corner by the dark hall he sees an empty box,
and an unhappy face reading a letter written in a rush:
the only letter that was returned for unfixed postage,
and as Santa steps down the empty sleight... the surprised girl's eyes light up!
Santa, old Santa...this Christmas is so sad and incomplete:
it needs another Yule' miracle;
asks her what she wishes for...in a night
so shining with hope: when everything seems so possible!
T'was the night before Christmas,
Satan feelin' kind'a blue,
Cooked up a devilish plot...
To repay me and you...
For all this religious fervor,
And holiday joy....
Annoyed him like hell,
He would take every toy!
Inspired by the Grinch,
He'd make this Christmas,
An unholy mess...
So he dressed the part,
In flaming red suit ill fitted,
His tail he could not hide,
In that he was outwitted...
With Santanic glee,
He set on his course,
To repay this cruel world,
With tons of remorse...
His raindeer substitutes,
Many demons in pain...
Would haul his fat arse..
No matter the strain...
With a magic bag to steal all the toys,
It you could never fill,
Toys just disappeared
To make cry girls and boys...
Well he struggled down,
The first chimney, you see,
Attracted by its fire,
Not by how it'd used to be...
He bristled with
Designed to give,
As he did descend...
He'd even steal their stockings,
Which perhaps he could mend...
And someday soon after,
Sell them at a flea market,
Being sure to infest them with fleas,
While attached to an electric socket....
Would be just his luck,
On that first he was greeted
With a big-eyed little girl,
Her prays did seem answered,
She was quietly seated...
"Oh, dear Santa she cried,
I've cookies for you,
And milk cause I heard,
You loved that stuff too!"
He eyed her with anger,
A craw in his throat,
His plan now seemed
His goal would not float...
Countless children, he gruffed,
To defend their own home?
The weapon of innocence...
Their's all alone...
He turned and he roared,
Up the chimney in a snit,
And that was the last time,
That a child did outwit,
This king of all evil,
And doer of deeds,
Unspeakable for ages,
To all races and creeds...
So if you want,
your Christmas toys,
Alert and count on,
Your little girls and boys...",
ding- dong -ding-dong- ding
jingle bells as people flourish the streets looking for what ...presents,
as a child sees Christmas they see what they will get,
an adult sees Christmas as a time to belittle over worked merchants,
we wish you a marry Christmas rings out from sound tracks at the mall,
bitter no good grenches take this time to watch the poor crawl,
ever see a spoiled child smile with joy?
ba rump bum bum,bum
ever see a single mother scrape to by her kids just one toy?
ba rumb bum-bum-bum
oh silent night where have you gone,
this holy night what have you become,
this is what I got this is how in debt I now am,
bills forgotten to sooth your rotten and lets not forget the ham,
a night when a poor woman gave birth to her baby-Christ ,
we celebrate with a grand feast to stuff our face in his name-nice,
walking in a winter wonder land is where the true meaning is,
a time when a family sits and counts their blessings and holds their kids,
we wish you a marry Christmas we wish you any thing this
working over time doing what ever it takes for ...a gift?
oh come all thee faithful think about it to be here together we should all be greatful,
thank you for what you gave me- CD's, DVD's ,I-POD,MP3's none of it was at his table,
but this is what we've done taking this holiday and turning it into- what we've become,
more then we can handle, more then our means, because more is better then some,
it's love that makes the children, it's love that sets the tone in our lives it's love-
you can have , are give all you want it's done out of love you want to do it out of love-
my Christmas is the love in my kids eyes, the smile on my wifes face,
they are my every Christmas gifts and at that moment there is no other place.