Sparkling snowflakes were falling around
Making a thick blanket on the ground
The lights on the Christmas trees
Twinkling brightly in the breeze
Carol singers sang a Christmas song
People around joined in the throng
Their lanterns casting a golden glow
Their shadows dancing in the snow
Two excited children were ready for bed
Having left food for the reindeer's and Santa to be fed
They’d left their stocking by the tree
Their eager eyes sparkled with glee
Hoping the stockings would be filled with gifts and toys
They put in their letter they’d been good girls and boys
Tommy had asked Santa for a shiny new bike
The red one in the shop was the one he would like
Ella asked for a new doll and a pram that was white
The thought of it made her eyes shine with delight
They sleepily climbed the stairs to their room
Through the curtains they saw the light of the moon
Soon they both were fast asleep
They slept so soundly there was not a peep
In the morning they bounced out of bed
Wondering if Santa and the reindeer's had been fed
Bits of straw and carrot peel lay on the hall floor
Their mouths dropped open in wonder and awe
The living room door was slightly ajar
Santa has visited on his trip from afar
Their stockings bulged with gifts and toys
Santa had kept his promise to these good girls and boys
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Contest
Sponsor Carol Eastman
~awarded 1st place~
Faces bright with anticipation
Awaiting Christmas illumination
Dad turned the switch on at the wall
The Christmas lights twinkled in the hall
The children gasped at the wondrous sight
Smiling faces beamed with rapturous delight
A magical moment for us all to see
Dad switching on the Christmas tree
Contest: The Hush of Christmas Past
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
~awarded 6th place in screwed contest~
This year we will remember
Happier times in past months of December
This year we will certainly see
A massive void where you used to be
This year we will sit and stare
At that forlorn and empty chair
This year we will sit and reminisce
You are not here for us to hug and kiss
This year we will definitely see
No gift for you under the Christmas tree
This year we will shed a tear
For dad as you are no longer here
This year we will raise a toast
To our dad who we loved the most
This year will be so difficult for us all
It was the year the Lord did my father call
Contest: Past, Present and Future
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
What's up with Santa
Chimneys not swept Santa isn't happy
He is sick of the soot making him snappy
Families have lost the one thing that gives a room soul
A roaring fire of wood or coal
Toasting your toes as well as the bread
Held in front of the coals which are glowing red
Back to Santa who is beginning to stumble
No longer mince pies, sometimes fruit crumble
The tot of whisky has become a shot and Fanta
The reindeers are fed up, with a drunk Santa.
Talking of striking which isn't pleasant
A Xmas morn without any presents
All because Santa can't say no to the offings
Quaffing the goodies that are left out for him
So come you Mam's and Dad this is the test
Chimneys clean a mince pie and tot is best
Children will wake up to a happy morn
Celebrate the day a baby boy was born.
Reindeers will be happy too, that's nice
So will the elves and the live in mice
Happy Xmas Santa, once more you have survived
Delivered the parcels and kept tradition alive
Left me a sackful that's kind of lumpy
Opened to find a red eyed Santa that's grumpy
So night night Santa time for a snooze
Remember next year to keep off the booze
Penned 22 November 2014
Tenacity and Audacity
When day does start then has been through
What will it be that most men must do
To make sure his marriage becomes complete
So she thinks everything is oh, so sweet.
Each morning he does dust mop floor
See Seattle Seahawks game and the score
And back to man cave he will flitter
After cleaning up all of the cat liter.
Brings Christmas decorations down each stair
And every time as they will look out there
People at all of it have gazed and gazed
Each one of them ended up truly amazed.
His daily duties are complete and all done
And now realizes he is the only one
Who found this to be within his capacity
Thoroughly with audacity and much tenacity.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
A Christmas dinner that can’t be beat
Here is the menu of what we’ll eat
Mashed potatoes whipped smooth and fluffy
Green bean casserole; nice and crunchy
Pickles and olives on a perfect relish tray
Cranberry delight that’s been chilling all day
Sweet potatoes such tasty treats
Hot rolls steaming both white and wheat
Homemade honey butter and strawberry jam
A gorgeous honey glazed Christmas ham
Turkey and noodles are piping hot
A fuzzy naval salad; I almost forgot
A slow roasted turkey golden brown
And broccoli rice casserole; pass it around
For dessert we’ve a variety of tasty treats
Tons of scrumptious goodies to eat
Chocolate chip cookies and brownies so sweet
Four kinds of pies including minced meat
It’s all there so fill up your plate
I’m getting mine, I can hardly wait
nature sings softly her lively recital
everything is glorious and looks vital
the swans exhibit courtship behavior
their dances visual pieces for their spring-paviour
thrushes chitter their earliest symphony
birdseed germinates and outspreads spring widely
two newts show a beautiful mating dance
strawberry plants use their early spring chance
a show of new born green just above the ground
alders pollen causing sneezing peoples' sound
few snowdrops, celandine, white dead nettle
and hazel trees show leaves and huge mettle
appetite dictates this walk with our dog
a craved annual entry in our blog
at length awaited while walking and watching
dozens of reasons for thinking and talking
the artificial Christmas tree just packed
the baubles and the glass peak safely wrapped
a large cup of hot chocolate a good mate
served forthwith stale Christmas cookies on a plate
(c) Elly Wouterse
It was at Christmas time that she invited me to her home
This wonderful Northwest lady that I feel I’ve always known
Her coffee pot was brewing as I entered her living room
To find her tree adorned with an angel who had died too soon
Little Joycie was but a child when God called her back to him
As we shared a cup, tales of our past and future were woven
A grandmother with a gift for words reached out and touched my heart
I brought a hand-made Christmas stocking, hoping joy to impart
A special connection I made with this talented poet
To be able to call her a friend, I am blessed and I know it
Written by Carolyn Devonshire and Dedicated to Super Souper Joyce Johnson
For Michael's "First words over coffee" contest
My good friend Jerry’s unemployment had run out
I feared print journalism’s future was in doubt
But while we commiserated on Christmas Eve
A disheartening report was broadcast on TV
Local law enforcement had been busy that day
People found living in the woods had been cast away
These homeless families had set up tents on state land
And police had ordered these squatters to disband
How heartless it seemed that these souls should be tossed out
Poor folks who had nothing and learned to do without
We shut off the TV, couldn’t take it anymore
And headed for a café with joyful décor
Just twenty degrees as we drove down the highway
Where a sight neath a bridge caused far more dismay
A couple and their small child huddled together
Trying hard to stay warm in cold winter weather
Sad images of Bethlehem flashed through my mind
With no room at the inn for the savior of mankind
I looked at my friend and he returned my glance
We both felt this family needed a second chance
“Pull over,” he murmured, “we can’t just leave them here
These folks deserve to share in our holiday cheer”
So money that could have bought steak dinners for two
We used to buy hamburgers for our five-member crew
Some cash left over for a room at Motel Six
Not a real solution – a temporary fix
We returned Christmas Day; our church would take them in
But they had checked out; it was half past eleven
For long I’ve wondered what happened to this family
And what each Christmas holds for those who are needy
*Recollection of Christmas, 2007, when the economy started to fail.
For Christmas I dream that it often seems
It was merely a dream for Christmas I dream
For Christmas I dream it is often alright
The demons sleep fast on Christmas Eve night
For Christmas it seems that I often dream lies
For Christmas I dream you have heeded my cries
Often for Christmas I dream it shall be
You are home for Christmas; you are home here with me…
By: Tim Ryerson
Written on 12/16/2013
For Deb’s contest
Came home just the other day
Caught my kitties well at play
Cats like to climb up trees it's true
They have the Christmas spirit too!
But not my lovely Christmas tree!
They looked as innocent as can be
With ornaments hanging off his nose
One came out smelling like a rose
For his little sister was worse than that
She was a silver garland-wrapped cat!
Oh they had such fun 'til I came home
Their saucer eyes so brightly shone
I couldn't stay mad for very long
Soon was singing a different song
Found the camera and flashed some shots
Cleaning up all the messy spots
Re-hung the ornaments on the tree
Again it was lovely as could be!
A Christmas Story
He looks at the cards hung over the fire
Suspended in air by the finest of wire
One from his wife, his children and friends
Christmas he loves and he’s sad when it ends
Ceilings are decked with the seasonal trim
The tree is all set, baubled to the brim
Presents are wrapped, all ready to give
It’s that time of year he loves to relive
He sits by the tree and a fire lit ball
The image reflects of the babe in the stall
A donkey is there, the parents look on
Surrounded by shepherds and kings in a throng
He see’s the whole story, slowly unfold
As each in their turn, gives baby a hold
And the great star above shines brightly and new
And the world is at peace for a moment or two
He then see’s the past when his children were young
The house full of laughter and carols were sung
When visitors called for a glass of best sherry
Good cheer was abroad and everyone merry
Now the children have grown and live far away
No more with new toys will he see them play
His wife had passed on, a long time before
Each year that passes, he misses her more
Then the ball on the tree shows him all alone
In the house that was once his family’s home
Rolls a tear from his eye, drips from his chin
Does somebody, somewhere, still think of him?
He leans back in his chair and his eye catches sight
Of the cards he hangs there each Christmas night
Suspended in air by the finest of wire
He looks at the old cards hung over the fire
A knock at the door brings him back to life
He answers and finds it’s the ghost of his wife
“They’re not coming to you, so we’ll go to them”
It’s our turn to travel to Bethlehem”
From my place on the tree, the room I survey
Though he’s still sitting there, he’s on his way
To watch over those he loves above all
But, he’ll never forget what he saw in this ball.
It’s the night before Christmas, still I am annoyed
Visions of North Pole, now crumpled and foiled
While youngsters prepare for deer bells to ring
Above moon-filled sky, voices caroling.
Fireplace adorned with trimmings on Yule rug
Awaiting Ole Claus to sneak by... humbug!
Wishes for red bike never came last year
My card he ignored, did it disappear?
Now,I wonder if you really exist
My eyes smolder as I’m not on the list;
Even Mama dances by the flames so proud
Repeating your name like a tune, aloud.
“Dear Santa, I doubt the speed of your ride
How can you bring presents in hours, worldwide
My, is this St. Nick a fantasy’s weave?”
Then note falls,“like love, you have to believe!”
In a dash, my bike turns up to my delight,
Jingles fade out, “Ho, ho, ho; bless this night!
Jerry T Curtis' What Up With Santa
by nette onclaud
I cherish the Christmas time of the year.
People are in the streets grinning ear to ear.
Children faces light up with joy.
Pondering on their favorite toy.
This the season we remember to give and share.
It is a way to let others know we really care.
We are told wise men came to a manger to seek
Later wise men would hear this child speak.
If I had but one Christmas wish,
It would be for you to know a Christmas bliss.
Edward J Ebbs - Christmas 2003
My youngest child taught me something today
That I had almost forgotten along the way
At this precious age the focus isn’t money
Or finding the promised land of milk and honey
As soon as we decorated our Christmas tree
She placed a gift beneath it saying, “For mommy from me”
It wasn’t a gift from a catalog or store
This special gift was so much more
She ran to her room, found her favorite toy, you see
Then placed it in a cracker box and gave it to me
No wrappings or ribbons just the heart of my child
With glowing eyes and a tender loving smile
That, my friends, is how Christmas should be
Because the best gifts aren’t found beneath the tree
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
“…and a little child will lead them.”~ Isaiah 11:6
Under the festive Christmas tree
Down there we lie, just you and me
The lights have dimmed, but candles blaze
In tranquil night, my arm you graze
I lie still in this quiet night
Passion shines there, in your eyes bright
Your lips, they warm me with a smile
You let it nestle for a while
The colored lights on our tree blink
How do they know, I'm on the brink?
And then you love me, sweet delight
All else just blurs away from sight
No one to witness this exchange
As your hands play emotion's range
The fire gives that added glow
I am adored, and this I know
This Christmas, love has been reborn
As new vows by our lips are sworn
You touch my hair and plant a kiss
Under the tree, I taste sheer bliss
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.
The first king size bed was fashioned nearly two thousand years ago,
Not by Thomasville, Broyhill or Bassett, manufacturers we all know.
There was no pillow-top mattress made by Sealy or Simmons for the bed,
Nor a chenille bedspread or foam pillows upon which to rest His head.
The bed was not located in a cozy Hampton Inn or Embassy Suites,
But in a lowly stable with a bed of straw sans snowy-white sheets.
The first King size bed was a simple manger for a royal destined to rule!
A King of Kings was born whose birthday we celebrate this joyous Yule!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Town malls are cluttered with Christmas shoppers,
toting packages of last-minute-list-droppers.
Carols echo from high pillared ceiling,
leaving one and all with a charitable feeling.
Door frames draped with assorted Christmas light,
center stands a lit tree, what a glorious sight.
Children align mall walls waiting for Santa Claus,
to listen to their wishes and wants, just because.
Long grueling lines wind through department aisles,
confirming it is Christmas with occasional smiles.
Feet are aching from walks to distant shop,
shoppers sitting on benches, some refuse to stop.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
When did Christ get pushed aside
for a fat man and reindeer on a midnight ride?
I'm sure if Jesus had his way
he'd change his birthday to a different day.
Competition's too tough on Christmas day
when it's all about Santa and what's on his sleigh.
There's no room to park at the mall.
Is this why Christ died for us all?
So we could buy bigger, better toys
to fill our hearts with Christmas joys.
Do the little ones even know the reason
for this Christmas holiday season?
Santa's recognized by everyone
but do we even remember the son?
Do they even know the story
of the manger, wise men and God's glory?
Santa Claus is all the rage
and Christ's day he does upstage.
So have yourself some Christmas cheer
'cause it just gets worse year after year.
Sudden fever, limbs trembling, the clog in breathing
why now when I wish to sing of the golden coming our way?
Packages piled beneath tree, lilies opening their heart
and I can't think, no story, no news, no hellos.
So I have only my new toy phone and these crazy fish
mating and multiplying and swimming past golden bells.
Who am I kidding, how could I not be productive every minute
when rest is denied me for a cough, swelling at throat.
No excuse, one could say, fish will always be fish, darting
from threat, meeting their feed needs, following children.
So why am I no fish, no human with this glazed brain
when the carols unroll with the bowing of violins, trumpet
of joy. Isn't that enough, sheer piping pleasure blared
to night, to dare fears entrance, to light up world
Isn't that the true message, you and I here, meeting
for an hour, a gift of sharing, the unrolling of fatigue,
the quieting of sorrow with the birth of a new world.
How new? Minutes new, this is enough for joy
to cherish the golden fish swimming into you life
disappearing like tomorrow's sun forever but alive.
With wonderment and gleeful bliss
she gave her mama a goodnight kiss.
Then off to bend the stars till dawn
and watch the snow adorn the lawn.
Hoping so much to see a sleigh
the wee one bowed her head to pray
for Santa's safe journey and such.
Really she didn't ask for much.
Her nose frosted the window panes
as she reached for some candy canes
to feed to Santa's swift reindeer.
How she could feel their presence near!
Finally she lay down to sleep
so quiet she didn't make a peep.
She watched from her bed to the moonlit sky
to see if Santa Claus really did fly!
Fatigue took over;the little girl slept.
Her guardian angel it's vigil kept.
Off she slipped to a dreamland sweet
till she heard the clatter of reindeer feet.
It's morning and down the stairs she flies
among the toys and a dolly that cries
there stands a tricycle in pink
and Mama gives her a smile and a wink!
written Christmas Eve Dec.24th, 2013
Its Christmas time again and the bustle is on ,
cleaning the house, bring out the new stuff
A touch of paint over there, I’m almost done,
The lights are up, tree fully decorated, My place is decked out !!
In the early Christmas morn, the gifts I lay beneath the tree,
Everything is in place……Ohhhh, what a beautiful sight to see!
Now retired to bed, pleased as could be
He spoke - and it caused me to look at the thing I did not see
I’ve cleaned and prepared my house for the day
In the midst of this, have I done the same with life in any way?
The scripture rang loudly in the blanket of the quite morn-
“A child is born and a Son is given”- am I ready to receive this gift that’s given?
All the lights I’ve hung, He’s the light of the world
The ornaments on the tree, He’s so precious to me
This tree that stands in my hall so tall
Upon a tree he hung, offered vinegar mingled with gall……
My responsibility right now, is share what’s been offered to me
If you did not have lights or decorated a tree, Could not buy a gift, or just didn’t know the story…
Jesus is the gift that’s waiting for you
Yes, you can receive Him, its long overdue
Just open up your heart, he’ll make it brand new
Take a moment to ponder-
Christmas is celebrating what Jesus has done for you !!!
12/15/11 revisited 12/17/12
Santa's spirit is forever serendipitous.
December's dreams never die within us.
They simply slumber in that wistful world
Where we were once boys and girls.
When once upon a time translated to tomorrow
And happy hearts had no space for sorrow.
We wished sorrow so far far away
Its sadness today was tossed to yesterday.
So let Santa live in December's schemes;
Hoist hearts high - deliver dreams.
Nov. 24, 2013
Presents opened by the hearth,
Gifts of goodness from the heart.
Christmas snow is falling down,
A fresh white blanket for the town.
Little eyes are opened wide,
Snowmen and angels dance inside.
A pure "White Christmas" for us all.
Warm inside, we watch it fall.
Happy as our hearts are lifted,
A Christmas present God has gifted!
Hours before tolls rang of Christmas midnight
My godchild quite young, cuddled me real tight,
Above, he pointed at the biggest star
Then named it after me, brilliant from afar.
My heart sang with his boyish thoughtfulness
Amidst revelry, cheers started to progress
Tidings and food graced the house and pine tree;
Opening gifts on eve of jubilee.
Beside my loot stood a wobbly paper bag
With drawings my fingers had to untag
Surprised, I murmurmed my holiday wish;
Inside was a handmade star on creped varnish.
Teary-eyed, a note of love written down
Across a pad trimmed with bows all around;
His precious gift made breaths rise, to exhale
Oh, from a child who couldn’t rightly spell!
Contest: Deb Wilson's The Perfect Christmas Gift
Poet: nette onclaud
An unusual thing occurred at our house Christmas Eve.
It caused us anger, it was enough to make us grieve.
We waited to the last minute for a live Christmas tree:
A brimful tree of precise size, with perfect symmetry.
On Christmas Eve, we pulled it inside the house to trim.
As we tugged it through, we discovered something grim.
Although the tree was green, it was dead as a doornail.
As we carried it in, pine needles rained down like hail.
It was too late to find another tree, the problem to rectify.
“We can’t have Christmas without a tree,” I wanted to cry.
Long gone the days to trek into woods & chop one down.
I wanted to stomp my foot, I wanted someone to crown.
Not only was there no tree, we vacuumed piles of needles.
“Honey, we need an artificial Christmas tree,” I wheedled.
‘After Christmas sales,’ afforded us a great opportunity.
Now, I can decorate the tree each year, with impunity.
No worry about limbs drooping, no watering to do. I
like the convenience. I like the look of it too. After
it’s what’s under it.
Don’t you agree?
Daddy left Mommy, when I was two
She really didn't know what to do
Four little children under the age of six
Was a situation, she just could not fix
Christmas was coming, she didn't have a dime
The bills were piling up at the same time
She tried to focus on her belief,
Lost the battle and applied for relief
A county program, for the very poor
Barely kept the collectors from our door
So sad she was, by her lack of funds,
She couldn't buy presents, for her little ones
With grandma watching us, she left to go out
She never came home, we were forgot about
I was too young to remember Christmas that year,
It was years, before the whole story, I'd hear
Grandma tried hard to make it right,
She took care of us until Mom returned, one night
Branded in my memory, the day of her return
After nine long months, I would later learn
Mom never mentioned the time she was away
She loved us to the fullest every single day
Twenty-four years quickly flew by
When I think of the day it happened, I cry
God took my mother on the ninth of December
Unexpected, a loss I'll always remember
Going through her belongings, we came across.
A small newspaper article, that intensified the loss
How we found it I will never know
This plea, with a picture, from so long ago
As I read the article, blurred by my tears
I was transported back, through the years
To a little girl on grandma's knee
Looking at a shabby, Christmas Tree
Crying for her mommy, who wasn't there
While grandma patted her silky hair
Grief, it hit me, no time to hesitate
When I saw the significance of the date
December ninth, the paper, said it all
Memory upon memory, I would recall
Two events, so many years apart
Yet, I could feel the child with a broken heart
Holiday Spirit, sad to say, I had none
Decorating that year without the usual fun
Mommies little tree, on a table it sat
Her homemade ornaments, and a tree mat
Going through the motions, I have to admit
All I wanted to do, was quit
Events don't shape us, they make us learn
Even grief, has its turn
Memories of a Christmas, thirty years past
Impressions, they fade, but still last
By Karla Null~Godsgift~
Your "Saddest" Christmas Ever Contest
Sponsored by Constance LaFrance~A Rambling Poet~
On a late winter's eve through the night Santa rides,
much more swift than the stars that now fly through the skies.
Now lifted by faith and a tiny child's kiss
on the eve that we celebrate baby Jesus.
Through the dreams and the wishes and love that abounds,
from their songs to the heavens their voices resound,
and the prayers in the Temples of God now do plead
for the hearts of all Christendom to humbly believe.
Then the bringer of gifts is the first one to say,
"Merry Christmas to all on this bright Christmas day"!
Santa Claus, as we all know
is a jolly old soul who says ho ho ho
When the kids are fast asleep
He comes down the chimney without a peep
The he puts the presents under the tree
And off he goes to make another delivery
From the north pole he comes each year
Bringing joy and Christmas cheer