making each holiday
but fostered love
will bind us together
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Dr. Mehta’s Contest
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans
Harvest of food
Families gather close
Give and receive
Gifts...but best is the love
© Sandra M. Haight 2014
All Rights Reserved
Contest: Cinqku Poem - Holidays
Sponsor: Dr. Ram Mehta
Copyright © Sandra Haight
I do not know?
The northern skies are turning gray --
Seems the sun just doesn’t linger.
Christmas is just a month away,
And the nights are getting longer.
That Thanksgiving spent with family—
A briefly pleasant holiday—
Was forgotten all too quickly
By pushy crowds on Black Friday.
Our gift checklist seems like old Saint Nick’s,
But our staff is lacking Elves.
Shopping trips cause daily panics.
I wonder how we’ll feed ourselves.
We must buy more decorations,
So the yard looks like it’s snowing.
We fall deeper in depressions
As our credit keeps on growing.
Lord forgive commercialism
For ruining every Christmas.
Lord forgive consumerism
For dumping on us all that stress.
December is a dreary time,
Even when little angels sing.
The irony of Christmas time
Was that Christ was born in the Spring.
While standing in the checkout line,
Remember what the carols told.
Think of how Bethlehem’s star once shined,
As Israel’s prophets foretold.
Think of the awe of the shepherds
When they saw angels fill the air.
Coming to the stable, entered,
To meet the Holy Family there.
Instead of spending all you have,
Next November and December,
Spend time with all of those you love,
And teach them what to remember.
"A Savior born in Bethlehem"
Should bring us joy and happiness;
And “ Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”
Should set us free, not bring us stress.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday
About thanksgiving a bunch of turkeys get together,
Have a meeting about sales for the holidays.
About fall they send out that letter.
Well those business folks got to cuss and discuss,
And figure how to gear it,
To make us customers
Feel that holiday spirit!
Here’s the minutes of the meeting,
We’ll skip the high fives greeting.
“All through the mall we’ll have ho- ho- ing Santys
From the computer games to the racks of panties.
Adult book stores will send out Yule tide flyers,
To attract all the spirit filled porno buyers.
Don’t forget to put some plastic wreaths
Round those expensive briefs,
And the music; what about the music?!
Let’s start the secular Christmas songs,
In time for the black Friday throngs.
Make sure the songs don’t mention God or Jesus,
We don’t want to offend and have people leave us,
Remember Christmas is all about the money,
So let’s spread the ads on thick like honey!
Hide all the advertised sales on goods for this time of year..
And put the top dollar toys and items by the cashier..
So if you business people got more ideas, let’s push them through!
What’s that? Oh yeah…ah…merry Christmas to you too.
MEETING ADJOURNED !”
“(hey Bill, ..about that bikini clad Santa dancing on the new hutch,
I think maybe her pine needle bra is a bit much…..?
What you think?….)”
Inspired by Carolyn D. (too long for the contest, but had fun with it!)
Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Such a wondrous thing,
in the winter or in the spring.
So, doggone sweet
and a yummy treat.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Pluck the sweetest from the tree,
one, two, three, laughing with glee.
A flaky crust and sweet center,
eaten with ice cream who cares if winter.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
Sugar and cinnamon, sticky sweet,
pop it in the oven, almost complete.
I cannot wait to have a slice, maybe two,
as one would scarcely do.
Apple Pie, Apple Pie
I cannot believe I did not share.
It was tasty on my tongue,
and now there is no more there,
not even a crumb.
That I have to post this upsets me:
My poems are copyright. I am sharing my
poems for you to read not for you to
post willy-nilly to a website, in
your newsletter or anywhere else with out
my permission. I am available, leave me a
message. Especially to those who change
the name of my poem and not give proper
credit. You should be ashamed!
Copyright © Alesia Leach
On the 12th day of kiss-mass my true love sent to me
12 dirty undies
11 socks a stinking
10 shoes a humming
9 shirts for pressing
7 days of take-out boxes
6 flagons of beer
5 D V D's
4 mischievous children
3 dozen wine bottles
2 ex partners
and an engagement ring under the tree
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty
singing a tune
too close to the fire
Decorating the tree…
Dr. Ram Mehta's
Cinqu Poem Contest
Copyright © Eugene Finley
Two hawks aloft
crows anxious banding together
Carol Ott comes over to my house, likes the warm weather, November
a California Christmas and maybe species will change places to reflect
paints watercolor ornaments, gentle Jewish lady
how far from her past is she now? or is she quite aware just not talking
about it now
I wonder what she thinks the solution to Israel-Palestine might be
ask her sitting around the pool next summer
almost always disappointed people haven't given the single state solution
we discuss Thanksgiving, the cleaning and cooking before and the
cleaning after, then the insane Christmas potlatch
deciduous trees have a special winter beauty, conifers among them.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow
Ho. Ho. Ho. Here we go,
blow off the calendar
Racy red, glazy green
and bright white
blaze into sight.
Hell's bells, boredom tells.
Yuletide pride takes a ride,
while leaves on trees
as yet yearn to turn
and Turkey Lurkey is still
wheezing in the freezer.
Save your sales
for a later date;
in return, you may earn
than you've ever seen.
Copyright © Cona Adams
There is no greater pleasure than the mixture of fall and winter
We start with Halloween
The pumpkins, the sweets, the treats
Black and orange set the tone
The chill is just starting to hit your spine
You can smell it in the air
Feeling on edge
Waiting for the scare
BAM! It comes, it goes
The temperature drops
The turkeys better run
You better buy your elastic pants
And make room in your house for the whole family
The fire, the gathering, the attire
The smell of pumpkin floods your nostrils
You gain an internal warmth
Let us say a prayer for this meal
Look outside, winter is now here
The transition from fall has been made
Pull out the scarves and hats
And set out your Christmas mats
The fat man is coming to town
Put away your frown
This is a jolly season
Decorate the houses, prepare the tree, sip your cocoa
Mistletoe is in the air
And the sound of wrapping paper is in your ear
We're getting close
You better turn in your list or you're toast
Sleep early, listen for the jingle bells
Christmas morning, looks like Santa stopped by
Welcome to winter
Say goodbye to Finter
Copyright © Alex Riker
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
It was the Day after Thanksgiving and every store in town.
Had planned to opened wide its doors before daylight could be found.
It was an outlandish sight to see people sleep overnight.
Shoppers camping on sidewalks people waiting in the moonlight.
The Christmas shopping season was formally set in motion!
Hustling, bustling, getting, and grabbing: bikes, pipes, and lotion.
TVs, wreaths, computers, briefs, trees, ties, anything money buys.
Some starry-eyed children sway singing with Santa beneath skies.
Meanwhile, Jesus Christ, the nativity, and live manger scenes
Attempt to teach people what the Christmas season really means.
A few carolers come singing along their neighborhood streets.
And the folks that they sing too, with big smiles, surprise them with treats.
A God loving soul amid the clamorous celebrations,
Gathers his family, to make costumes and preparations.
Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherds, and the three Kings with gifts, myrrh.
Reverently, they reenact our blessed Savior's Holy birth.
This poem was written for Carolyn Devonshire's Christmas in Your Town contest.
Poetic form: A narrative written in couplets.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
His hand reached out to mine, open,
Holding it, I smiled, our eyes danced with understanding,
Form and blush outlined his expectations,
But I could see that there may be fear inside.
Mary restated their predicament,
That the child was born out with the marriage bond,
And that people were swaying to the opposite side,
And course dialogue, laughter and spitting were norm.
So I asked the two for their thoughts and predictions,
About the child, if he perhaps could be like, special?
And they specified that he would cure, heal and exorcise,
And also promised that they’d talk to him about the poor.
Could this baby be the messiah?
I pondered and hoped in their certainty;
Was this the predicted son of god?
He would be free from aggressive victimisation,
If we could just name him as god's son.
So I suggested to his parents,
That if the wise men came with a quest,
To accept the name Jesus Christ,
And certify the census, no less.
Freedom for some is in lying,
When there’s no possible alternatives,
But I believe Joseph never lied,
In the population census of Bethlehem,
That just so happened to pass by.
The baby hadn’t been named,
Only the parents last name was changed,
Made credible for interaction,
For currency and ware to be exchanged.
The child would have been suppressed by all,
Assumed to be dirty and unclean,
Not for chat or dialogue,
And certainly not for work in a trade of his call,
Or for work in any trade for that matter.
Nothing would ever have been done,
The poor would never have been healed,
Or not so quickly for sure in history;
The government would not have been rifled,
And Christ would not have come.
Treating the poor for health problems,
Would have come through government legislation,
A long time after Christ,
In an austere, aloof manner.
People to people relationships,
Would not have been respected,
If care had been awarded top-down,
By bureaucrats and officials:
As supervisors of the protected.
Society at that time was narrow minded,
Stuck in traditional religion;
There were outcasts, sinners, infectious people,
And assumptions were remedial and red:
There were no special people,
No exceptions to the rule,
Only one place for the messiah confided.
One baby matters to me,
A life should be saved at any cost and risk,
Because the abilities you show when young,
Shouldn’t be muffled or labeled regressive,
But nurtured in acceptance and love.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan
THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS
When Thanksgiving Day is finally gone
And Autumn's days are rushing on
We come to a time when feelings change
Even the animals begin to act strange
It's a time that's filled with anticipation
And the joy of a soon to come celebration
A time when hearts are festive and light
With beautiful Christmas trees shining so bright
A time to remember the birth of a child
Born in a stable, so meek and mild
Whose birth was foretold by angels in dreams
And becomes more wonderful each year, so it seems
So if we all took the time to recall the reason
Why the entire world celebrates this season
The a true Christmas Spirit would surely prevail
And the world would be more than willing to tell
Of the Christ Child born on this day back then
To become a Man who can save us from sin
A Man with the gift of Eternal Life
To be lived with Him and be free of strife
So let the Spirit of Christmas touch you today
And spread it to others along your way
Then maybe this year the whole world will see
The real Spirit of Christmas in you and in me
Copyright © Curtis Moorman
I do not know?
It’s Valentines Day full of cards and kisses
Wish you were here covers all of my wishes
Easter is here and were celebrating our lord
Each day that passes I miss you even more
It’s been seven years today since we said, “I do”
It seems longer than that since I last held you
We all gather together for the birth of our land
It’s the Fourth of July and your not here as we planned
It’s your birthday today marking 34 years
When I think of you celebrating alone, it brings me to tears
Now it’s thanksgiving and the families all here
The rooms filled with spirit and still your not here
Out of habit I set a place at the tables head
The kids leave it and “Soon Mom” is all that was said
Santa is coming and kids are full of cheer
I try to keep smiling even though you are not here
Pictures with Santa and the lighting of the tree
Smiles on Christmas morning I wish you could see
We gather to wish good tidings to all
I sit and wait by the phone thinking maybe you’d call
You have missed a great deal in the year you’ve been gone
Jason had a great time at his junior prom
Katie turned seven and Chrissie turned two
For all their birthday wishes- they just wished for you
At night we all get tucked into bed
We snuggle up close and then bow our heads
Dear Lord please keep special watch over our Dad
If anything happens to him we’ll be so sad
He’s over helping the other country grow
Doing his job as you already know
He’s helping other little boys and girls
Opening their eyes to a whole new world
We are so proud of him and hold our heads high
But each night we hear mommy lay there and cry
We all miss him more than you know
Yet during the day we don’t let it show
We have to be strong and keep the faith
That soon he’ll be home with us and be safe
We are proud to hang that flag up high
We are all so full of American pride
We pray for all the soldiers’ safe return home
We pray that there are no more families left alone
Dear God for this Christmas please hear us pray
Bring our soldiers home where they belong, where they’ll stay
Copyright © Dawn Swain
A Christmas memory filled with happiness being with family
the best place I can be
quality time together sharing and having lots of fun
and been thankful for the birth of Gods only son.
for the contest A Christmas memory
sponsor Broken wings
Copyright © diane christian
Snow Angels. More than just fun.
Our Indian summer has faded fast
A turkey dinner with all the trimming
Families gathered, what fun we’ll have
This time of year is never slimming.
The news is filled with weather reports
Forecasts measured in “growing” inches.
But stores are filled with eager shoppers
This is no time for Christmas “Grinch’s”.
For now will start our “Snowy” season
That one for some oft filled with fears.
For under foot it’s always slick
And if we fall it breaks our rears.
But there’s a bright side to winter snows
Sledding down a steep, long hill.
Ice skating near the river’s edge.
Or a snow ball fight might fit the bill.
But there is one pass-time some can’t ignore.
The thing for which each winter begs.
As new snow falls we’re on our backs.
To make Snow Angels. Waving arms & legs.
For this is more than just “some fun”
It leaves a mark that tells a story.
Of a new born “Christmas” child.
Who grew-up to bring God Glory.
A choir of angels, on that night,
Sang of Peace, Good Will to All
As simple shepherds to were drawn
While Magi followed a bright stars call.
So in the days that winter brings.
Be reminded of this simple pleasure.
If you grow weary of falling snow
That hidden out there may be a treasure.
For all that listen to “Stables Story”
That marks for us, a great new start.
Salvation’s offered, to each a gift
Receiving Christ into our heart.
For that’s “The Reason for the Season”
Written by oldbuck Nov. 22, 2015
After receiving a Little Snow Angel ornament from a friend a church.
Copyright © Old buck