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 do not know?
It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?
Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through
It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.
What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.
Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.
When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!
But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.
Inspired by Andreas contest, though in ballade form. not for contest.
That awful Christmas day
The sun was shining bright outside
Christmas day was here
We’d all enjoyed our Christmas lunch
Then drank some wine and beer
Everyone wore happy smiles
It was that kind of day
When everyone was filled with cheer
And the atmosphere was gay.
Then we smelled that acrid smoke
It was heavy in the air
I looked outside and fear hit me
The flames were everywhere
A fire had started in the bush
And now it was upon us
Everyone was in blind panic
Creating such a fuss
All of us fled from the house
And gathered there outside
As the fire devoured our lovely home
I was stunned, I could have cried
For nothing could be done at all
The firemen came too late
On that sad, sad Christmas day
Much fear life did create.
I do not know?
The first of many Christmas's will come without you here
I know it is the happiest time of the year
But not for our family will it be that way
For you wont be there that day
You wont be in your chair watching the kids play with thier toys
You wont be saying hay come here boys
Grandpa has a special gift just for you
An then say the same thing to the girls too
As you hug each one tight as you hand it to them
each one specialy picked as if they where rare gems
Everyone will be missing your smile
An I know it will be that way for quite a while
If you chance to see
a wandering snowman
on your way home tonight
Let me know.
The poinsettias have started to wilt, turning dull
The Christmas lights have flickered low into the night
The food has lost its savor
Gifts have been opened
Blurry are my windows now
As snow continues to hide
My precious snowman from plain site.
If you chance to meet
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Stop for a moment and play with him.
Share a candy. Make him smile
Make him a paper airplane. Make him beam and laugh.
Hug and kiss him for me. Warm his heart.
It's all a lost mother would ask
If you chance to experience
My wandering snowman
On your way home tonight
Please send him home
to a warm Christmas with me.
It's all that I ask.
A Christmas Gift
O Dear Lord
My earnest prayer
For my dear friend
And grief she bears.
Her Pastor husband
Few days before
This Christmas Day.
She’s quite a gal
So faithful stood
And helped him with
The Sheep she could.
Her children dear
She’s kept them close
And passed this year
With promised hope.
But now she sits
This day in tears
For it is almost
Been a year.
The Christmas Tree
Before her sets
She has her lights
And just again
Her tears of grief
She couldn’t lift
A hook or piece.
Two Doves appeared
In radiant white
And lifted garland
Round and tight.
One by one
They hooked and pinned
And tinsel thin
The tree it glowed
Its lights so bright
The beauty shown
Throughout the night.
She slept so sound
And dreamed that he
Her husband came and
Dressed the tree.
And when she woke
From grief worn eyes
There it was
To her surprise
A Glorious tree
But how and where?
A message held
A top the tree
By two white doves
She took it down
With breath so tight
She told herself
O what a night!
“I am not far
As you can see
I love you
She gasped in awe
His picture drew
She held it close
Her heart anew
She smiled soft
And no more tears
He’d be with her
The magic of
This Christmas Tree
A gift of Love
A frenzy, a chaos of
celebration all around.
Togetherness and ritual imposed while
inside of me a splintering
No respite, no escape from
faces eager to connect
to share, to love.
Grief is a mongrel here;
an agony of burden on
the righteous shoulders of joy
I can only run, crying out,
in frantic search of
This tree, this breeze that
gives me permission
gives me space
Its tapestry of lace against
a grey ocean of sky
shrouds me from expectation,
defending my right