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."
A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way…
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.
The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways…
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…
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…
sand burns on the skin but you
find relief nearby
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.
A huge ego breaks off love’s embrace,
A tiny ego slips off love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!
A selfless ego suffocates from love’s embrace,
A selfish ego wards off love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!
A super-visual ego overshadows love’s embrace,
A deep-seated ego is colonized by love’s embrace,
No ego, no embrace of love!
A healthy ego humbly looks above,
A healthy ego can lead and also serve...
Its nerves know not pressured blood,
But developing it is almost hard!
Come list' my dear to Christmas, 'tis the sound
of children's voices ringing soft and dear,
it calls to mind some hope may still be found
within a world that lives in constant fear.
Oh what a change the world's been going through
since first we met one winter Christmas eve,
and all I ever had, the gift of you,
is all I ever needed to believe
that peace on Earth would be all of our days
and now just hear these children sing along,
perhaps we judge them harshly, in some ways,
for don't they seem the picture of their song?
How could one think our children do not care,
when there's so much of Christmas they now share?
© ron wilson aa vee bdosa the doylestown poet
A spider spun a silver web
in a mound of golden straw,
Then he hid himself inside the stack,
away from the wind so raw.
He yelled down to the sheep below
Who were trying to huddle close,
“It’s times like this that I wish there was
a fire for a mutton roast.
For winter had come upon the land
and his barn was deathly cold,
He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night
if the truth of it were told.
He tried to dream a dream of hope
to get him through the night,
But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep
because of a blinding light.
A star was shinning down on them
as if the sun in mid-day glory,
The little spider had yet to learn
of the coming Christmas story.
Below was a ewe with her lamb
both snuggled up together,
Trying their best to keep warm
in the cold of the winter weather.
“I’d never trade places with you anyway,”
the mother sheep bleated out,
“Why are you so happy in your hate
to lend voice to pain and doubt?”
The light from heaven kept them awake
and staring in wide wonder,
When two weary travelers entered in
and the straw became their plunder.
The little spider became dislodged
as a nest of straw was piled,
And he could see that one of the travelers
was very great with child.
The three companions watched it all;
they’d never seen a human being born,
They were all surprised when at his birth
There came the peal of an angelic horn.
A herald’s call went out to all the land
announcing the newborn king,
And the spider and the ewe shared a laugh
to think of such a thing.
Because this baby was so very small
and his parents were so poor,
Yet there was something about this newborn child
that neither could ignore.
The spider looked down on the ewe
and said in a voice too bold,
“This baby needs to be swaddled now
to keep him from the cold.
Good ewe I can spin for him a cover
if you’ll allow me to use your fleece.”
So together they worked to swaddle the child
on this night of Holy peace.
The mother smiled at them all
as she took the blanket for her boy,
Then laid him in a manger poor
and they were overcome with joy.
The meaning of this wondrous event
was what made them all feel glad,
For they had brought the first gift to the Lord
by sharing what they had.
And the warmth, which they had provided the child,
also kept the three of them warm,
May the loving joy that they discovered
keep you this Christmas morn.
It's day one of the rest of our lives
Beginning as it usually does
But this one seems a little bit different
The world is all abuzz
It's all abuzz with great excitement
Something's about to take place
Has this old world finally realized a truth
We're destroying the human race
Since the beginning of recorded time
Wars have forever been fought
Over land, religion and ideologies
In a web of destruction we're caught
A day of awakening is about to take place
We have finally seen the light
From this day on, wars will be abolished
Peace is finally in sight
Am I dreaming out loud? Can this be true?
Pinch me to make sure I'm awake
Let's hope this time it's more than a dream
But reality for all our sakes!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Life on a hitchhike
A cool drool drip slid to the corner of a slit shut
mouth. Eyes that once FLASHED reared back and humbled
into occular armpits, no explanation. Hands that once
felt warmth and high hopes slowly tremmored twitching
careless as unmatter of fact. I watch the
flesh depart, skin crawling with old breakfast
sausage patty indifference. Postage due----Royal flesh
does not win. Careful. External refuse
hidden bonds confide in mass abuse of internal
bliss like factory worker, paydayholiday Friday. Say
goodbye like used coffee grounds At last gasp I
set sockets against a blank ceiling scanning with
eyes aglee and a wave in omnidirectional fervor.
Too finite? Numb and neutral with nothing at stake
I praise a restless content over a form boring of
less than glib compose and promote a position of
erectile tissue and ooooze about time , space
swaying to and fro for this invisible temptation
dave collins, "Yes", 1/89, Wash D.C.
It annoys me
I hate you
I don't like that gift
Take it back
You know what he wants
But you don't know I i want
You spend all your money on him
And spend only ten bucks on me
I gave up on Christmas
Because Santa wasn't real
We look up to him like a god
And that I don't accept
I don't believe in religion
Or in creations of Disney
I do not believe that Santa will show up
I don't believe god will show up
All these stories told by mankind
That's the end of Christmas
How about we live in real life
Instead of living in a fantasy
Lately for Christmas I unplug my little Christmas tree
and then I enjoy hitting the hay while trying to conserve
my heating bill by not cranking the temperature up all the way.
I even try to leave it off if I may.
I pile the covers way up high and have a last thought before
Santa's elves take me away to that North Pole location
behind my closed eyes.
In my peaceful and joyful bliss MR and MRS Claus invite me in.
There's a warm fire to greet my line of vision and nice soft sofas
to sit down and relax in, in order to enjoy more fully
the sweet little visit.
MRS Claus a gracious host is she as she offers me my choice of hot
chocolate or a nice cup of hot tea, of course I choose the sweeter
of the two, along with nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, just
baked fresh out of the antiquated yet fully functional oven.
The conversation is bright and lively as Santa walks in wearing
his red pajamas underneath a very rich looking robe... red with
a white satin sash.
Holding a lit pipe he takes a puff to warm his cold nose.
There was a large, real Christmas tree over in the corner of the
living room, decorated with strands of real gold and longer strands
of silver tinsel strewn randomly through out the large branches.
After our more than pleasant visit was over I turn to leave the Claus'
very large home and saw the elves leading the reindeer to their very
large stables to retire for the night.
Then my dreams started to turn to other things, but not before
I heard Santa say to all a Merry Christmas and to all a good night!
by S.E. Clark
They are so thrilled to see him come around;
riding his sleigh in the deep snow...
laughing and making that jovial sound!
Santa, don't rush downhill, take it slow;
the roads are slippery and the deer are running wild,
don't to crash into them to be there on time!
What if Christmas was without Santa this year,
and his coming was put on hold?
Would the children listen to their mama, so dear,
when she tells them to go to sleep...
because if they stayed awake for too long:
Santa Clause wouldn't slide down the chimney!
Sleep and you will surely find those gifts on your bed,
but don't expect what you wish for...if you've been bad!
Sleep and dream that he'll tip-toe to your bedroom,
wouldn't you like to peak and make believe you're asleep?
And will Santa not see you wiggle under the sheets and and stoop?
Sleep with joy and dream of what tomorrow could be!
What if Christmas was without Santa this year,
all the lights were shut down
in every snowy city and town;
what if no stars twinkled on each adorned Christmas' tree,
and the church bells stopped ringing?
Wouldn't the sad angels, looking over Jesus, stop singing?
Come Santa and make everybody happy;
it's not the gifts that matter, but your goodness and laughter!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci