As I contemplate life
Through thick lenses glasses of the whiskey bottle
Is there life?
What is life, what is the lie, or even the truth?
Or is there only the journey to darkness
If so, why not buy a first class ticket
To the black hole of the universe
There in death, I can sit
Dreaming of the rebirth of atoms and molecules
Then, I ponder some more
I remember years ago
Holding a soda pop bottle
I just couldn’t discard
Somehow I was happy
He was my invisible friend
We sure had adventures
Nighttime I was safe
He would guard the window
Be would both gaze at the stars
I would talk and he sure knew how to listen
These memories bring me smiles even now
Is the universe that strange?
Are we all related so, objects, minds and souls?
All I know, is maybe I better stick around
Have a soda
Savoring my youthful days
When all my friends came around to play
Yelling Ricky, come on out, it’s a beautiful day!
Baseball was always fun back then
I always had my soda pop bottle in my bag
Surrounded by friends and so so content
As I contemplate life
I am somewhat amazed
That the ghost from the Christmas past
Is no illusions after all
Chains be dammed, I am set free
I awake with a new vigor
To a new year
Notes: First I recommend to read Orange Crush The adventures of Soda Pop by Richard Lamoureux, all of them are a series. So, I added my dark side, and a wee bit of Charles Dickens at the end, as he like Richard used to write stores in series like this. I thought it unique to combine these 3 ideas in one!
I took the character of Ricky, aged him, and had him look back in time!
Follow me and walk down an avenue of Firs
To my Log Cabin you'll view, I'm sure you'll concur
Overlooking Loch Ness, look in the fields you'll see
A herd of beautiful Reindeer roaming so free
But it's when you look around, my world glistens
It started by walking to here, footsteps to listen
Crunching, crunching, crunching, white virgin snow
Where here it's normally dark, now it's all aglow
As we turn the corner many colours in radiate
Glistening amidst the white kaleidoscopic drape
Then to the cabin we view, lanterns of every colour
Hanging in joyful sway never outdoing each other
As we draw nearer through the arched window I see
So beautiful in adorn, a most lovely Christmas Tree
Through the door we enter, Sleigh Bells in the Snow
It's at this time of year, so many many smiles show
Snow sprinkles the ground
as delicate as sugar
crystallizing the exterior with a romantic heritage
only found in the heart of a child's imagination.
Like happiness it can melt in your hands,
and like happiness it can grow bitter like the ice you slip on
Forming miraculously to the curves of the earth
hugging till the land soaks in it's providence
white like the pages I battle with
Falling so passionately you'd think it was falling in love with the ground
And when it lands,
A blanket of perfection
glistening the season to a crisp
gently the sun arises
"there's no where to go today,
I'm just going to sit and enjoy the magic."
As the snow falls around me, I marvel at God’s wholesome and worthy entity.
The Lord, on his special day, has given me a gift so precious and special;
He has opened my eyes to his wondrous glory.
The Lord above all has allowed me to see the beauty in the smallest of things:
The stars and moon at night, and the clouds and sun by day;
The little trickles of freezing cold, yet clean, fresh, clear water
Running down the mountainsides, quenching my insatiable thirst;
The trees in all their grandeur,
That provide my warmth when I gather their branches;
The leaves and pine needles at my feet,
Providing soft beds for me and all the forest creatures.
Best of all of these, however, is the snow.
The beautiful snow in which no two snowflakes are the same.
The same biting cold, yet strangely comforting and fulfilling snow,
In which brings forth light on the darkest of days.
I must thank the all-loving God, who has bestowed upon me this glorious gift.
Me, a pathetic excuse for a soldier who has run away
From the sight of bloodshed because I cannot stand to fight another friend.
Me, a coward who is now running from the law,
And living solely in the forest for fear of being caught and hanged.
Me, a God-believing man who has sinned greatly.
But I have repented. I have asked God for forgiveness of my sins on Christmas Eve night,
And He has replied by giving me snow on Christmas morning,
showing me that I am not alone, and that I should not be afraid.
And, by His grace, when all I have been seeing was darkness and despair,
He opened me up to allow me to see the beauty and light in all his creation.
“I praise You, oh glorious God, for giving me this most wonderful gift!
I thank You for forgiving me, a sinner, of all my wrongdoings,
and for giving me this awe-inspiring gift, for which I have done nothing to deserve!
I exalt you on high, oh Lord, for all that you have done and given me,
and will do for me and give me! I will love and praise you always!
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
A single leaf,
Falls out of a tree above me,
As it twist and turn,
The wind blows it in my direction,
It symbolizes the ending point of my
struggles and all my pain,
It tells me that they twist and turn,
But never remain,
It takes a sudden fall next to me,
It symbolizes the thought of being
It tells me that someone is always
by my side,
As I write,
The leaf flies away,
As if it had a huge success in
Nature communicates with us in
Not with words,
But with a single leaf out of a tree.
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
A single horn
From the center of its forehead
Beauty in its essence
All the feasts will sing
Let us dance
Let us sing
Let us celebrate
The whole world will dance
The whole world will sing
The whole world will celebrate
Even the feasts will sing
The Prophet's Birthday
All the feasts will sing
All the feasts will dance
All the feasts will celebrate
All the feasts will say
Life is beautiful
Life is a short dream
Let us enjoy it.
Her father’s grave was at the top of a hill overlooking hundreds of other plots with vases full of colorful poinsettias, white carnations, and decorations. Her name was Linda and it was Christmas time. She could see the beautiful arrangements everywhere she turned. The cemetery sat on top of the rolling hills overlooking the street. The backside was lined with large green poplar trees and grass that needed to be mowed. This was a peaceful place she thought to herself. This is how it should be for everyone who is in Heaven.
She came to visit his grave every Wednesday evening after church. She liked to see the plot at night with the luminaries shining brightly. This time she invited her Aunt Sylvia to join her. It was Sylvia’s brother who was buried there. “See Sylvia”, Linda said, “Isn’t this splendid?” Sylvia replied, “Yes. But, I do not feel comfortable here. You do not know if all these souls went to heaven. And, if they didn’t where are they now?” Linda looked all around and at her father’s beautiful site and said, “With all this beauty, how can there be anything but goodness, here?” Sylvia shivered and responded, “Like I said, not all souls go to Heaven. You need to come during the day.” Linda laughed, “You’re not serious. This is a beautiful place. And, especially at night with all these beautiful colors.” Sylvia quickly responded, “It’s time to leave.” Linda, a little annoyed, said “Alright, alright.” And, they got into Linda’s car, and she drove Sylvia home. Very serious, Sylvia said, “Promise you will only go to the cemetery during the day.” Linda just shook her head.
The following Wednesday evening after church, Linda pulled her car up to her father's plot. She noticed his flowers were missing. So, were his luminaries, and Christmas decorations. She immediately called Sylvia. “Hi, Aunt Sylvia. It’s Linda. Have you been to my dad’s plot? His flowers and decorations are missing?” Sylvia retorted, “No, its evening time and a full moon. You should not be there. You NEED to leave!” Confused, Linda asked, “Why, what’s wrong?” Sylvia screamed, “Look around, are there any other flowers missing?” Linda, slowly turning around, noticed there were no flowers or decorations in her vision. Yelling and afraid, “Aunt Sylvia, there all gone!!! I’m running to my...” And, she was gone. Vanished. Sylvia, still on the phone, “Linda, Linda?"
Sylvia was right, not all souls go to Heaven.
©Holly P. Moore
W- Winter's harvest
K- Kraftingly coledged
E- Earth things
The Christmas Tree
The many branches
Favorite spruce and pine boughs
Home made popcorn garlands
A beautiful tall evergreen tree
The many bright lights twinkle brightly
Spheres of the rainbow coloured balls and pretty bows
The ringing of golden bells on the exquisite tree branches
Many home made decorations cookies and candy canes and cakes
The tall nutcracker nearby standing tall beside the beautiful christmas tree
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Like joyous green of summer, my heart is singing filled
With you, while winter`s white is witness of good willed;
The glass works and the hot red wine spreading light:
Comforting carols “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”.
Comforting thoughts of good like good miners,
And cakes a lot with names of saints and sinners
Looking the heart of sweet cherries strudel under the sight
Of mother humming “Silent Night” or “Brad Frumos”.
Smoldering embers and feeling like hot chocolate
With scent of incense offered to every Christian mate
Under the new temptation of good and hope of right
Teaching of church on “Silent Night”,under “Brad Frumos”
The sacrifice of the pig, a ritual Symphony in red,
At the other side of modal logic, with wine and bread
And slaughtered pig and soured soups that might
Be prepared and savored on "Silent Night" ,near “Brad Frumos”
The aromatic smoke ascending, and dancing heavenly
Like our attempt to preserve and conserve not only
The clay and flash creature but also the inner light
And so many candles to see the Light on “Silent Night”...
On a cold, cold night with a touch of snow, a cat wished quietly and sadly for a home.
For a year he’d found nowhere with love to call home. Yes, he’d been, so very, very alone.
He lived under a deserted car now, where his family had lived long ago, for a while.
They were now gone to a new home, and he feared, he couldn’t carry on without them, my dear.
So before going to bed he wished on a star, which appeared ever so brightly above, from far.
All he wanted from anyone was some food, and to sleep next to a warm, warm fire, too.
As he fell asleep he also wished for a hand to touch his fur, gently and kindly, again.
Then he awoke to a sound he’d heard once before, as Christmas bells had tolled, long ago… He was sure.
That night an old man in red had come from out of nowhere, to take his family a new home, so fair.
Scared by the sleigh and the reindeer he drove, the cat had run away, that I know to be true.
But not any more would he run away, his legs would no longer take him very far, any way.
He grabbed all his courage and around he snuck, until hiding under a bush nicely tucked.
There before him was a jolly old man with his reindeer and sleigh lined up, yes, again.
The man was dressed in warm, warm clothes, and stopped to lay down a beautiful bowl.
The man then turned away to do business forthright, inside the neighboring house that night.
I swear on my heart that this is ever so true, as the cat crept closer giving curiosity it’s due.
Coming closer he could sense the most wonderful smell, calling him forward, as if under a spell.
The bowl was filled with warm, warm cream, which he licked up fast as if caught in a dream.
Moments later the man came from that house, with a smile and a wink for that dear old cat.
The man in red picked up the bowl with a quiet demand, urging him gently to stroll to his hand.
Now was the dilemma to run, or to stay, but it was the large shining star that decided it all that day.
As he stood before that great big man in red, the star beckoned brightly from behind the man’s head.
The cats’ fears left as the man stayed with a smile and a grin, and a Ho Ho Ho that day, my friend.
He realized here was the home he’d wanted for so long, and had dreamt in his head, where he could belong.
Some how, he knew he’d be safe in that beautiful sled, and warm in that coat the color of red.
He came forward to lick and nuzzle the man, as yes; he was picked up gently, in his hand.
The jolly old man put him snug in his coat, as a red nosed reindeer winked from the front, I must note.
Then the man climbed in and sent forward the sleigh, as the cat curled up to sleep, the rest of the way.
Miracles can happen each day, at the hand of others who are wise and kind, I say.
This jolly old man was right in this deed, and ever so wise to stop and kind to care, you see…
So I’ll let you in on a little secret I know…
They lived happily ever after, at the North Pole.
THE STATIONERY BOY
His little dark street
Is at home in the silky cobweb;
His little dark street
Is only loud in the missionaries’ prayers,
It elicits a gaze in very few people,
It is but an uninvited guest to life.
The stationery boy hands out his beautiful fliers,
Like a messenger of his little dark street.
In his big clear eyes a tear is born,
Not as an accusation,
But as wonderful love,
His heart is young and full of hopes
That someday his big silent tear
Shall drop onto someone’s palm.
A new day is born in his wonderful spirit,
Perhaps somewhat cold and strange,
But a new day, still.
Oh powerful destiny, listen to your unloved son,
Wake up the sleeping star;
Wake up the sleeping sun;
Wake up the sleeping hearts of men,
So that the new day may be a friend to your unloved son.
In the inaudible shadows, he has his faithful listeners,
In death he has a faithful visitor,
His young beautiful eyes are more familiar with death than life.
When so many happy children gather around the city’s Christmas tree,
His dear young heart is loudly beating into the deaf nights,
Like a silver bell,
So that his small, dark home would be alight with a gaze.
When the wonderful northern wind brings
Happy children’s voices from afar,
Like a modest Christmas gift,
The stationery boy is building his little kingdom of happiness
In his vivid imagination,
His days and nights may be cold and dark,
But his imagination is bright and completely wonderful,
It shines in the darkness like an angel.
His silver bell is ringing beyond the heavenly dome.
If you want to show a real angel to your kid,
Hurry towards that little dark street,
And you might be lucky enough to see the stationery boy
Before he gets his silver wings.
©Walter William Safar
I do not know?
Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ...
Slowly as in the dream/
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/
He kisses fine/
Your eyelids /
And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/
Waiting for summer dim/
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/
You've been looking for rescue/
You searched in wine/
But it's in me/
all the rescues are mine/
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/
But I discern the light/
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/
Prepare you for winter drowse/
And it snows/
Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/
And you'll become whole/
Few years back I use to make Paintings
Mostly of landscapes
And sometimes, abstracts or portraits
The oil paintings which I use to make were such,
That anyone would have
Found them to possess and love
It was a season of Christmas and I was
Strolling, when I saw two beautiful poetry books
One on the season of Autumn and other on Christmas
It had a bunch of adorable world of poetry
So beautiful and so lovely
Printed with beautiful photos and scenes
The photo of Jesus was so enchanting
With His loving eyes spreading
The message of peace, love and humanity
One day when I was trying to draw a sketch
My brush started making on its own
A beautiful picture of Jesus
One evening, when that portrait of Jesus
Was almost complete
A Christian friend of mine saw that picture fine
He was overwhelmed with joy and love
And hugged me as if I was someone very fine
He asked me? If I can gift that portrait to a Church divine
I had felt a joy in making that beautiful portrait
But giving it for a place of shrine
Was the most wonderful feeling, one can cherish in his life time
He asked me to come with that portrait of Jesus Christ
And give that gift to his Church on Christmas Day
In the Church, where he was going to prey
I can never forget that Christmas day
While seeing that lovely portrait of Jesus
The priest blessed me with love, while tears in his eyes
I am not a Christian, but still I love Jesus
For all the kindness and love he gave to humanity
And pain and sufferings He faced for us
I still keep those two most beautiful poetry books
Like a precious treasure
And can never forget those lovely moments of sketching Jesus Christ.
Kanpur 29th Nov. 2009
Entered for Raul Moreno’s contest "The Deposition"
Note 1: This poem is based on my own true happenings. I am still
Keeping those poetry books published and printed in US around
1960’s and purchased by me second hand from a Magazine shop
Around 1965 as my most valuable treasure. But since a long
I am have not made any Paintings.
Note 2: Incidentally I have traced that Portrait now shining in the
care of my senior friend Mr. J F Patteson & brilliantly
preserved by him till now.
Winter fresh, crisp and clean,
God's dessert for mankind,
The mountains you ski,
Toboggans and sleds,
A swift passage to tomorrow,
The snowman and snow forts,
A favorite passtime,
The days of maple syrup and pancakes,
The pioneers making us welcome,
With their traditional old-fashioned ways,
The blessings of our God.
Author: Gwen von Erlach
Have you ever noticed how
Christmas never completely fades
there are reminders with us
through out all of the year
Just enough of a sense of spirit
to keep our hopes up for the one coming
long before the winter snows come
we are already planning ahead
August is the time to make
Christmas cakes and pudding
then seal away and allow them
to slowly mature and ripen
Picking out a Christmas tree
lugging it home and decorating
adorning the home with streamers
cards packed on the mantle
The joy of friends and family
when you all sit down to dine
the merriment fills the air
and good will freely flows
This Christmas as you recline
with a glass in your hand
pause and remember that today
is really about a special birth
I fear these years he is forgotten
the son who came to save our world
he gave his life so we may live
this Christmas spare Jesus a thought
When evening falls upon me gently
his eyes a breath away
I become a child rapt intently
like awaited gift on Christmas day
To peek through windows paled by slate
limbal ring that tone the blaze
brightly burning with loves desire
though unfulfilled and un acquired
They hold their gaze a relentless enduring
that something somehow will change
the clouds of doubt recurrently obscuring
obstacles of trust that keep them estranged
Rivers laced in liquid blues
with silver slivers running through
eyes of a soul that won't let go
of the dearest love he ever knew
Held in hazel and violet ring
staring back a soulful thing
that neither two would dare refute
a love no time nor distance dilute
The day of Christ with gift to bare
knew sorrows unseen or heard
alike this story too has fared
so to placid waters deferred
And yet no love as true as this
could bare the sight no less a gift
though for a moment then dismissed
the most beautiful eyes I've ever missed
Day by day we perceive the blesssings of the Lord,
The snowy day that reminds us about the blessings of warmth and friendship,
Friendship that is distant and always remembered,
Miracles that are difficult to define,
A church and portals that you used to visit,
Structures beautiful, unique and powerful,
Hymns sung and bible verses read,
Choirs where the bells ring and the songs are sung,
Ministers preaching the wisdom of God,
Relatives forever loved and protected by the Lord,
Blessed reunions and visits redefined,
Talents shared and appreciated,
The Lord's poet blessed by God's friendship,
Athletic strength as a senior guided by God,
Royalty sacred and divine, a blessing to mankind.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Three silly kids from beautiful Montana
thought there was snow in North Carolina,
and sliding down the fluffy slopes.....
they kept going for months 'till they hit rocks!
They were shocked and realized that the further
down they went, the less snow they found....
" We haven't seen an inch of snow and it's December! "
They exclaimed seeing grass still on dry ground.
Every December tons of snow fell in picturesque Brockway,
mountains' slopes plunged into lovely pristine rivers;
it was fun coming down, splash in the cold water and play,
then swim across with frozen toes and clogged ears.
They recalled riding fast sleights and humming carols, but in Andrews
there was no Christmas magic to hold them in useless wait;
bundled up as northern folks, they waited for snowflakes, not blues...
one of them complained, " No blue Christmas this year, let's split! "
Three silly kids from beautiful Montana
thought there was snow in North Carolina,
and disappointed as kids on Christmas Eve, they suddenly decided to leave;
New Year's Day was a week away and their unhappy hearts started to grieve!
All my life I have loved spruce trees,
They remind me of a beautiful breeze.
They are so slender and tall,
Rising above all.
Branches thick and refined,
The scent beautiful and kind.
At Christmas the spruce is our favorite tree,
Exquisite and free.
Decorated with love and care,
Seen with beauty so rare.
Bringing happiness to everyone,
Even after Christmas has come.
I love the spruce tree,
May we plant many more, to admire and adore.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
lone tire planted in the soil
under a willow.
Awake in the night-
I'll cover you.
Peering out window-
tall Crane stands over thick Hawk
awaiting a meal.
Shaved lamb to skin-
Winter morning leaves red spots
on its back legs.
A field of motionless
Windmills- Sun sets
gently to their backs.
Using the snow to make white chocolate,
And we cheerfully waltz down a sponge street.
As we melt away in the sweet, sugary clouds,
I can't wait for our hands to meet!
Because you're so sweet, I'll make it bitter,
And I use more meringue that usual.
A kersch-flavored cherry carriage rolls in,
And to the next station, being careful.
Wearing the scent of lovely vanilla and with an Xmas ticket,
I buy your favorite tart at the Chiffon Cake Street shop.
I walk delicately to your home so I don't drop the cake,
So please wait for me as I skip on a gumdrop.
I stop at the candle fields,
Enjoying the bright colors, red, blue, and yellow.
I drink a glass of red juice,
Tonight is a special night where our love will grow~!
I won't take much more time to get to you,
I wonder if my cake is okay?
Wait, my reindeer is running away!
Flying with a red-nose express through the grey.
When the snow falls, it's a light acrylic pink,
My fingers are colored purple when I touch it.
I can't take your call right now, I promise though,
When I come, you'll get a big Christmas star tonight!
With a sugary frosting, I paint a heart on the tree,
Love will be in the air tonight.
So wait for me, I have to walk delicately,
I won't drop the cake, alright?
For the Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale competition
the lackluster heart
is a careless companion
his tarnished love is a thin man with hungry eyes
loved only by her mad mad mind
with a clean beauty to her that shines
the sour bread is bitter wine
his own madness stifled his tongue
painting its masterpiece of literary eloquence in utter silence
a neon glitter mona lisa written for the ages
like a grease monkey supplicant for the siege engine that is his heart
the lackluster heart tinkers with his noble endeavour soul
seeking that sweet music perfection you see in all the magazines
hand in hand with the dream come true girl and her saltwater jewels
she is dragging sacks of christmas cheer
decorating the avenue with beautiful things
its that time of year
the lackluster heart is uninspired
but he's handsome and thats all that matters to her
From the womb there is a life that wants to live
From the womb there is a life that has something to give
A life that may grow up to become a doctor
A life that may grow up to become a lawyer
Or maybe that life will write a novel like Tom Sawyer
But maybe that life won't happen
Because its mother has another plan
A plan to abort this unique life
A unique life that will undoubtedly become so special
So special in fact that it will bear the image of God
And God will want this life to have an important impact
On the many lives it will come into contact
But again the mother's plan is to abort this life, from the womb
So how do we convince this mother not to dump it in the tomb
The tomb that houses all the aborted lives throughout the years
And also contains from ten thousand angels their many tears
So if you can talk to this mother and tell her the life inside her
Is a life created by God and considered to be an important one
You will have done something very bold and brave
To turn her around, to give her baby a chance to live
What is a Christmas Tree?
God's triangular shape,
A tall beautiful tree of green,
Branches layered and deep,
Twinkling lights coloured or white,
A star or angel on the tree top,
Decorations of Santas, angels and bells,
Icicles extending over the branches,
Santa Claus's magic every year,
A beautiful Christmas manager,
The Christmas Tree is complete,
God's blessing to mankind.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
It's that time and you know
You can smell the mistletoe
Hear the laughter of the children go
Not a single use of the word no
We forget of our foes
And watch the white snow flow
Finding a sweater to sew
While listening for the classic ho ho ho