As I walked into the banquet hall of the
Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
out to me were the eyes of the people. I
felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes
seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
sat talking to the others sitting around them
as they waited for the main course of the evening.
To understand this report we need to go back just
over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50
million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire
booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through
to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless
over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through
the streets herself over the last week inviting the
unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these
festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms
for this week, she also has clothed them with new
wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
Now as the people sat around the table they were
told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited
to hear what this amazing lady had to say
and excitement filled the room. When this
beautiful young woman began to talk there
wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them
how she was not going to just send them back
on the street next week but how she had
built a new centre that would have sleeping
facilities and showers to accommodate all
of them. This new facility will be serving
three meals a day which will be prepared solely
from themselves on a voluntary bases.
The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
and as the people realized the impact of this
wonderful news, they all broke out singing
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is
Rhonda Reeds reporting for
The Good Newspaper.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper
Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons
Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies
In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife
Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life
So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life
But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife
No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores
The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery
With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change
Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery?
Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals
Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear
The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears
Speaking, "Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear"
I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows
They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town
Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace
Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown
The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear
There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept
The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man
He smiled sweetly and said, "Lift up heavy head from dread"
I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs
It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night
An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town
Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight
Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham
I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well
Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see
Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident
“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons
“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door
She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,
‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother's love is stronger than the grave.’
Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed! Who was she, Daddy?"
Thank you, Moses, for joining me and guiding me in this write. Merry Christmas, dear
It is October again, but I have another in mind
One long ago, and it brings tender memories
It wasn't the usual, of Halloween kind
Of parties and goblins, of which there were many
It was a year of some changes, our family had moved
I was ten years old...struggling and shy
A small little town, I'd been replanted and torn
It was late in October...now uprooted and more...
A different school....a country lane....no close neighbors next door
On Halloween night, it rained and it poured
The end of the world...I was unhappy and bored
Leaving what had been home, familiar and sure
Where our old street had been filled
With Halloween thrills
Here in the country, ...no one came to the door
I was dressed to go out...but storms plagued the night
My mom understood....she saw my sad plight
She went up to her room, made up her face
She combed up her hair, until it stood on it's roots
Covered her face with black fireplace soot
She threw on her robe, and pulled on dad's boots
Crept out the back door, and to the front porch
When the doorbell rang....I jumped in delight!
Trick-or-treaters had come to our house this dark night!!
When I opened the door, at first I didn't see
It was mom, ...trying to hard, bring me some glee!
She grabbed me and laughed and pulled me to come
Out into the rainstorm....up the road we would run
We ran in the downpour, getting soaked to our skin
Laughing and yelling....such fun it had been!
Later that night, we warmed by the fire
She let me stay up....no one was tired
So cozy and warm...no longer so cold
With popcorn, and candy...and the ghost stories told
That one Halloween, on that night of the storm
Was the best Halloween....and reminds me of home.....
I'll never forget when each Halloween comes
The gift of the fun.... all thanks to my mom.....
As December winds swirled the snow in drifts outside
Lisa covered Mama, held her hand as she cried
“It’s my last Christmas, I know it in my heart, dear
Send my prayers to God; deliver them with my tears”
“Hush, Mama, you can’t die; Tommy needs you so
And his tour of duty still has six months to go”
Mama fell asleep, Lisa bowed her head in prayer
Adding her own tears, she asked that Tommy be there
“Please let my brother see Mama just one more time
When her eyes open, may it be her son she finds”
Tears fell on the floor as Lisa kept vigil
Beside her cancer-stricken mother so fragile
Awakening to see Tommy standing nearby
In uniform he appeared; Lisa exhaled a sigh
“God sent you home, I knew He would, our pleas were heard”
Tommy stroked his sister’s hair, saying not one word
‘Twas then Lisa saw Mama standing behind him
Aglow in heaven’s light were her mother and twin
“How blessed we’ll be – together on this Christmas Day!”
Lisa exclaimed, just before they faded away
Confused, she saw her ashen mom so still in bed
‘Neath the door a telegram, Tommy too was dead
And though there were tears in Lisa’s blue eyes so bright
Her loved ones would spend Christmas together in God’s sight
A smile came as candles flaming in the window grew
Lisa realized one Christmas she’d be with them too
*Rhyming narrative for Paula Swanson’s “Tear” contest
Pweeze wet me expwain, officer -
I taught it was dat wascally wabbit agin...
buwwowing under my ewectric fence,
eating up my cawwots. wettece, my bwoccoli
and-and...even my woot-a-beggers!
He's a weal pest...constantwee hawassing me,
destwoying, wandom wooting, wuining my cwop...
din waughing at me! (Dere outta be a waw)
Wha...awwest me?...Dis is an outwage!
I am a waw-abiding citizen!...Wead me my wights!
I demand pwoper mis-wepwesentation!
I am going diwectly to your superwior office, pwivate!
Bewieve it my fwiend, you will wive to wegwet this...
Ow! Must you be so fweekin WUFF?...Dat hoits!
I have woomatism you know! Powice bwutality! Po...
Aw scwew it...Wes! Wes! I moidered da widdle bum!
(Wunning awound dwessed wike dat
distwibuting doze siwwie cowoured eggs
Embawassing widdle cweature...
It's a downwight disgwace I tell you)
written 28th June 2013
The place downunder, I'm happy to call my home
if you plan on a visit, here's somethings you do "need" to know
Kakadu is a place 'you' need to take the time to see
such magic you will never won't to leave
But...if your arms "outside" the boat...
It...WILL end up down, a crocodiles throat
Ayres rock...is a must place to have on your list, simply this you can not miss
As the sun descends watch it's colours change, you'll be mesmerised by 'pure' bliss
Coober Pedy...for those slightly intrigued with the underground
for it is here, a quiet town where all there house's are found
Ballarat...you can still find gold
Well... so I've been told
I recommend...."you" don't swim in the oceans at the top end..
surrounded by oceans.... the rest, feel free to jump in
"BUT" if you happen to see a 'fin' I highly 'recommend' you swim
With nights call..'when' offered pull up a chair, grab a beer and relax
there's just....'one small' catch
Don't ever be the 'first' to fall "asleep"
Aussie's find 'extensive' pleasure in an innocent prank when asleep
Enjoy your stay....and from the Land downunder we 'all' say "G'day"
and look forward to seeing you again, we know you had a great stay
The sandwich was probably only two days old
School had let out for Christmas vacation on the 23rd
And now on Christmas Eve Sam had found it -
lunchbox and all - in an alley behind Clarke’s Super
The kid had taken a couple of bites of the apple – now
gone brown- but left the roast beef sandwich whole
“Too damn much mayo!” Sam frowned
“But boy am I hungry!”
Licorice the cat – so named by the neighborhood kids –
was hungry too and let Sam know it with his most
Sam was street-wise an old cardboard box dweller who
had tenanted many boxes many alleys in his time
Yet this was no “Hello puss whose puss are you?”
animal summons for attention
The yowl had a bone-rattle desperation Sam hadn’t heard
Licorice blended with the night
But stood out even against the gloom
She was pressed against an empty oil barrel back arched
on the tips of her paws so almost skeletal
Sam couldn’t help but sigh
It was Christmas Eve and despite the location – a forlorn
back alley – a string of lights (from somewhere) were
The red-green-gold shown against Licorice’s satin fur
Charmed the (already charmed) night
Charmed Sam the Box Man
“Well I’ll be damned!” he gulped
Then threw half the sandwich to the starving kitty
“Merry Christmas old beggar.” Sam smiled
I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve. A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.
As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.
“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.
“Yeah? Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas. And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”
“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”
“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us. At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”
“Terrific! And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas. And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”
She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her. Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”
It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange. All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen. The old man cracked a little smile. A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you. And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”
The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes. Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place. When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face. She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks. All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.
I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream. Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”
I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.
“Yeah! Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.
In my hometown of Hillsboro
A humble, small suburb
There stood a church that was more humble still
In that cozy congregation
We'd teach and learn the Word
And try each day to do the Father's will
But our little congregation
Each year at Christmastime
Would execute a miraculous feat!
The whole town would come out in droves
To view what we'd present
A Christmas pageant right next to the street!
The first vignette was of a home
A modern family
Telling of that first Christmas long ago
The next scene showed the palaces
Of Herod on his throne
When his grim proclaimation he bestowed
Each onlooker could walk or drive
From scene to sacred scene
But either way, observers saw the worth
For every stop would reenact
The story of God's love
From Herod to the blessed Savior's birth
The community seemed hungry
To hear the wondrous news
Of the Messiah, born to die for us
And like them, we were richly blessed
To share with all who came
The spectacle-- a Journey Through Christmas!
*This is a true story that I've presented in poetry form for Carolyn Devonshire's "Christmas
in Your Town" Contest
Love is a season
And holidays mark the seasons, like signs in the road
Reflecting the bumps in our journey, but showing us a way back home...
Sixteen, in pajamas, watching the rain pelt down
It was long past midnight, Christmas eve
Twinkling lights on one house across the road, stared back at me
It was if they were trying to fill our void with color
The block was filled with a hundred black windows
And the blackness somehow seemed more appropriate
There was no Christmas tree in our house this year
I suppose Dad felt it was too soon, or perhaps just the effort to get through each day
had taken all the strength he had...
We had stayed up and watched a Christmas program together...
It was Perry Como, I think....somehow I remember how he sang "Ava Maria"...
My brother had come home from the Air Force earlier that week
He had helped bring us a bit of cheer....at least for awhile...
but he had been called back to duty, and I missed him terribly...
The house was silent after Dad had gone to bed
I wasn't sleepy....and it was lonely looking out at the cold night
It seemed the whole world was sleeping,
getting ready for the sun to shine on Christmas morning...
I started to head for bed, but noticed a light had been left on in the front coat closet
I opened the door, and looking up, to pull the chain, I noticed the box...
The little box that kept the sugar cube house
It was one that Mom and I had made together when I was 8 years old...
Little sugar cubes stacked into walls and a roof, glued together with red frosting.
We had copied one out of her Ladies' Home Journal....surrounding it with little trees, and
people skating on a mirror for a pond, things we had found at the 5 and 10 cent store
Carefully packed away last year, on Mom's last Christmas....
Throughout the night, I sat in the dimness of the house, laying out the sugary scene on the
fireplace mantel....as Mom would have done .
When the freckled morning moved into day...
I woke on the sofa...Dad sitting next to me. He had covered me with a warm blanket.
He held me and we cried together.
After breakfast....he disappeared outside, and soon came in carrying a sorry looking branch
from our old evergreen tree.
We decorated that bedraggled branch...it wasn't the most beautiful tree we had ever had
But it brought Christmas back to my family...
For Constance La France's contest "Your Saddest Christmas Ever"
riding out the night
searching for that solar storm
instead, up ahead
columns of wind
breach the scene
green trees clobber the place
as bedlam pulls out the white swords
and once again it's on
even though it was full as can be
no sign of Jason Voorhees either
maybe he's graduated from the mask
this place ain't so scary
"THIS PLACE AIN"T SO SCARY!"
(stirring up the devils)
only 15 minutes 'till we're in the clear
Saturday 14 is near
©2014 ~JSL PoetTreez Publishing
Upon our roof top did he arrived, two reindeers short and blood shot eyes. With his gray
and black beard with bits of food inside…I thought it was suppose to be white? They also
told me he had a cute button nose…his nose was big and by no means cute. He attempted
to enter thru the chimney top, only to discover that it was a false smoke top. So he being
Old Nick, I could hear him as he fumbled with some keys as he did huff in discuss. His
belt did seem a little bit too big for his gut and his and butt was as big as my dad’s big old
butt. From behind the big chair were I did hide by the tree, I could smell the aroma of
cheap alcohol coming off his breath as he bent over by the Christmas tree to deposit our
gifts. To despite the fact that he had been to plenty of houses before ours that had real
chimneys, his red suit was not covered with one drop single drop of soot! No not even one
dirt spot and the boots that he had on look like my dad's old work boots! I chuckled to
myself… and said maybe it’s made of some special stuff? As I he place the last gift in
place up under the tree, he then reach his hands to the sky and then grabbed his lower
back, I thought he was suppose to be jolly and all that stuff? The whole time he was here,
I could almost be certain that I could hear him cursimg from up under his breath… but to
my surprise he eat the cookies and milk that my mom had left, but the damndest thing
happen as he flung his back pack over his back and proceed to leave, but instead of going
back out the front door, he made a sudden turn toward the stairs and went up and into my
parents room and never left? I final said I had seen enough, I just chucked it up to
another year in the Ghetto and my first real sighting of legendary Ghetto Santa and one
which I hope would be my last!
Four palms, one taller, the other three measure the same.
Heavily anchored in sand, all are vertical climbers of this azure sky.
Eight new fronds per palm, the older ones neatly trimmed by man.
No cocoanuts anywhere to be seen, their hazard great, if allowed to fall.
Growing 40-50 feet tall, how many savage storms have they endured?
Lying on my back, I hear the unseen breezes giving voice to their action
as they manipulate the individual finger like fronds into undulating waves.
In the far and nearly vertical distance I see a moon in half-phase.
This reflection of the sun bisecting the geometry of the moon
made possible by none other than the very planet I lay upon.
One lonely cloud of no consequence is viewable. The pristine nature
of it all now rudely shattered by an absurdity. “Dusk to Dawn” barnyard lights
are lag bolted onto two palms. How incongruous this fit of barnyard lights
affixed to a palm in this tropical paradise.
Suddenly, the whispering of the tropical breeze is interrupted
by the staccato, whump, whump, whumping of a helicopter, all black and shiny.
Streaking parallel to the shore mimicking a news channel
coverage of a Bronco chase or the latest freeway jam. Now comes
the cacophony of a loudspeaker, calling out it’s “Bingo Time” for
the bored and soul-less, as it reverberates toward the beach from poolside.
The rhythmical lapsing of the waves on the shore is drowned out
by high-pitched adrenalin fed screams and twin 200 horse outboard exhausts.
A parasailer from Des Moines has caught the wind and traverses the sky.
Strapped in a chest harness while dangling precariously attached to multicolored bands of
nylon, he is praying the towrope doesn’t break.
My total sublimation again obliterated, this time by two nudists from Europe.
Heavy oiling barely covers her lack of cups and his cajones are swinging free.
Nuts and knockers that haven’t seen the sun for eons will certainly
ache for emollient caresses tonight. Those mental images will play in my mind
like a never-ending mobious strip of hilarity, for which there is no end.
Traveling thousands of miles from the cold weather and slush.
I was allowed only one minute of solitude before nuts, knockers,
loudspeakers and barnyard lights rudely jerked me back to this reality.
Corrupting civilization is just a split second behind us. Ever ready to bury us,
should we but pause to admire natures’ beauty in a remote destination!
*Vacation thoughts garnered in Punta Cana.
Guess what... they even have “Black Friday” in Russia!
It's called, ?????? ???????
Who would have believed it!
The whole wide world has gone nutso, nutso, nutso!
Thought for sure Putin would have abolished it by now
Oh well, Happy Shopping!
© Jack Ellison 2014
Relaxing sea ride with skies of blue.
Gentle waves rock our bodies like a porch swing.
Family laughing and soaking up the sunshine.
Further along waters start to get choppy
Waves grow bigger than a garden wall
Green emerald waters broke our bow
This nearly ended a land lubbin crew
Straight to the bottom the pontoons did dive
I heard a shrill scream of terror escape
When my ankles submerged to a watery doom
I ran to the stern to get more height
Drowning was not the goal nor our plight
The pontoons began to arise like a bubble but
Our motor stalled from the severe incline.
I know now fuel don't run straight up at a ninety degree turn
We had to be at the mercy of the sea while our engine
Decided whether to trust us or not
After several harrowing moments the engine reved
We made our escape from natures deathly fury.
Many Christmas stories are told every year,
and many songs are sung with pure cheer;
do I have a good story, at least one, I can tell,
or a simple song I can hum and spread good will?
When Lisa's grandmother passed away unexpectedly...
by her dying bed she kept an ivory music box,
and to her lovely granddaughter she gave it
to saying," Take care of it, and smile when you think of me!"
The day after granny died, she went down the dark cellar
to hide the ivory music box in an old dresser's drawer,
and once in a while she would open it and play it and listen to it sadly;
the pretty angel swirled...and Silent Night played as Lisa touched it tenderly.
It was almost Christmas Day and the pine tree wasn't decorated yet,
she rushed outside carrying a red basket with ornaments in it;
how could she had forgotten to adorn it with bulbs and garlands?
" Oh gosh, I feel like the Grinch!" she displeasingly uttered to herself.
There was no snow predicted for that evening and the illuminated town
was lacking Nature's magical snowflakes to make it festive and vibrant;
five minutes to midnight the choir from the nearest church gathered outside,
and waited for a miracle...silence...tranquility...every heart felt so alone.
But Lisa with an indomitable spirit ordered them to sing,
and they began singing looking up the clearest, starriest sky;
everyone seemed sad and some of them wanted to cry,
but before sadness set in...snowflakes began falling.
Lisa knew that it was the miracle she had been waiting for,
but something was missing from the snowy scenery...
she remembered her ivory music box she had put away,
and running, with awe in her bright eyes, she opened the cellar's door...
Clutched in her caring, careful hands, she carried the ivory music box,
laid it gently underneath the twinkling, scented Christmas Tree;
Lisa kissed it tenderly...until the golden angel started to swirl at midnight,
as that divine music filled the nippy air...making all cheeks so peachy.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Partys for couples new lovers and just friends.
Music to fill the night the streets of New york
breath life to old flames keeping even jaded souls warm.
The lonley gather round the TV.
sharing a glimpse at something we all yern to have.
And from the up high the streets seem magic tonight.
the soudtrack of the night will echo
into are hungover minds with a painful yet happy reminder
of last nights celebration.
Late night lovers will smile and go there awkward ways.
So many acts in so many different plays.
creeping back to are corners in lastnights suit and tie.
Tight little black dress kiss worn lips
acting happier than two kids ragged in need of a shave
you with hair in a mess.
And for friends that gather to relive not so real
The pages are left to the writter.
To add to lastnights not so original story.
As the barflys gather to battle another unsober day.
I watch this first new day anew.
Take a sip from my flask and thank the lord
for one more year with you.
And tonight I say to you all raise that glass.
kiss that stranger you know so well.
Laugh love and live.
And thank whomever ya choose weve made it through another
year to tell.
One more Christmas,
has brought such joy,
to many a family,
and not only with toys.
from once silent homes,
as cheer, and gatherings,
turn into merry songs.
memories were made,
as a New Year approaches,
and this one fades.
Death has taken a few greats: Willa Mae Sams Brooks, Gary Coleman(What chu talkin bout?)
Dennis Hopper, and Lena Horne
Childhood still has a day or two left, toys are scattered all about the floor. A new year's baby
has another year to plan and explore. Time continues across the globe though our hearts are
saddened for those who have gone before us.
The sun is shining and the leaves still blow, I hear a puppy yipping waiting for a boy to play
fetch. There is still packaging scattered across the floor from Christmas presents. Tonight we
will celebrate a new year for the birthday girl.
Happy New Year to all!!! May your dreams come true!
Who decides what's fair?
I dunno - but I can sure
Tell you what's
Putting out costumed morsels
On Halloween night
And having their parents or other large beasts accompany them
Some of the large ones carry mace
The worst ones
Carry wooden stakes
Tasty-looking tots go from door to door
Trusting in the kindness of strangers
Who will give them candy
But not ONE will come
Into my parlor
Willingly or not
I've had a few tugs of war
Over several treats
Who tend to scream
And somebody big always
Comes to their rescue
Then they go away
WIth all their TREATS
Whilst I remain here
Now THAT'S not fair!
I want to tell you a story,
about one Christmas morning.
The snow was falling,
and the wind was roaring.
Holly and Christmas ferns decorated the door.
Gifts piled high around the tree on the floor.
Home baked goods from the kitchen filled the air.
The children opened their gifts with great care.
Time stood still for a moment when,
I reached for the box to open.
The box was white like snow.
Delicately tied in a big red bow.
Inside the box was a gift for me.
A tiny silver bell laid silently.
I picked it up and it begin to ring.
The music of Christmas, so charming.
My little girl said, "I hope you like your present too."
"Every time you ring the bell, a note of love from me to you."
A silent tear fell from my eye.
What a beautiful gift, and such a surprise.
I placed the bell on the mantle with care.
Even today it still sits there.
This happened many years ago.
The Christmas box with the big red bow.
A tiny silver bell plays a precious tune.
A note of Christmas joy from me to you.
They say there's a first time for everything
My first time ever feeling the unsettling effects of an earthquake
Albeit, it was ONLY 5.8 on the Richter Scale
It happened during our holiday in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic
We were roughly 60 km from the epicentre
But still found it a little unsettling to say the least
The locals didn't even break a sweat
They experience on average 150 of them a year
However there was definitely some rocking 'n rolling going on
At first I thought it was one of those people movers going by
Transporting folks around the resort
Then realized... YIKES!
That was a FREAKING EARTHQUAKE!!!
All's well that ends well
And I'm still alive to tell my tale!
Great place to vacation but you wouldn't wanna live there!
© Jack Ellison 2014
It's funny how we associate things. They become one with each other. Who can imagine an Easter without the bunny, or losing a tooth and not being paid a visit by the tooth fairy. And Christmas would be unthinkable without Santa. So that is why, I guess, that I still remember one particular Thanksgiving from my youth.
Back then, turkeys at the market were fresh, not frozen and encased in plastic as they are today. They also represented an extra expense on an already tight food budget. So my mother made arrangements with the market manager to set up a layaway of sorts, paying some each week, and they promised to hold one for her.
I remember when, on the afternoon before Thanksgiving day, she sent me over to the grocer to pick up the turkey. I jumped on my bike and rode downtown to Converse Market. Walking up to the door, I found it locked. Shading my eyes, I pressed my nose against the window and saw that all the lights were off. Turns out they had closed early that day to give their employees a little more time to spend with their families.
When I returned home and told my mother what had happened, the look on her face was one of devastation. What would Thanksgiving be without a turkey? I thought my dad would be mad, but instead he just said “we've got food in the house don't we”? And we did.
So, although the letdown of a Thanksgiving without the traditional bird could have been a disaster, on that particular day, we chose instead to give thanks for what we had, and, as a family, dived into our pork chops with all the fixings.
Perched on the shore of Lake Victoria
Of its beauty I will speak
In any place I shall be
Granite stones chopped into bricks
Layered one upon another....glued by cement
"Monomutapalian architecture perfected" on the shore of Lake Victoria...
Of its hospitality I will tell
To all l shall meet
"Welcome" to me they said..."feel free"
This is your room...they guided
Some faults I saw
That prompted me to enquire...
"Do not worry"...they reassured..."this is Speke"
Warmly they pronounced..."You are our honorable guest"...
"We upgrade you to an Executive Suite"
"Do I have to add another cent?"...I wondered
"Nay" they said to my disbelief
"Come this way...this is where you will stay...
'til the closure of the errand that flew you here!"
It's amazing what a change of scenery
Can do for our psyche
Our whole outlook on life changes
We see things in a different light
More positive, more accepting of others
And the similarities between us
A break now and then is a must
To clear the cobwebs from our overloaded brains
Without a change of scenery
We muddle along never experiencing
The bright wondrous world out there that awaits
A form of therapy I guess you would call it
A time to recharge our tired old batteries
I strongly recommend this break from reality
You'll live a longer happier life
It's amazing what a change of scenery
Can do for our psyche
© Jack Ellison 2014
One crying kid after another sat on Santa’s lap.
He tried to remain jolly while holding onto squirming, screaming, kicking and
Those who did not cry had endless lists of toys and games they wanted for
He was not aware of the electronic gadgets and accessories they asked for in
He had been pee’ed on. Had his real beard pulled and tugged on. He had been
kicked and clawed. He was even slapped by one mother who did not like the way
he held her daughter.
Picture after picture for ungrateful parents who commented, “Last year’s Santa was
One spoiled brat after another, disappointed with the snow globe they got for
sitting on his lap after over an hours wait in line.
Christmas had lost its meaning and joy to the, underpaid, Mall Santa Claus.
Finally, on Christmas Eve, the line had come to an end and one last child waited her
turn to sit on his tired, wet and weary lap.
Void of enthusiasm, he motioned with his mitten covered hand for the girl to come
sit on his lap.
He wondered if this would be a crier, a wetter, a silent stiff, a whiner or a spoiled
brat with a long list of gift orders.
She felt frail as he lifted her up onto his lap.
She removed her cap and displayed a totally bald head.
“Hello, little girl. And what do you want for Christmas?”, he asked with no emotion
left in his voice.
She could only answer in a sweet, soft, whisper of a voice, “I came here to say
thank you, Santa. I already got my Christmas present.”
“You did? And what did you get?”, he asked.
“A bone marrow transplant,” was her answer.
“Oh,” was all he could respond with.
“Mommy said it came from Jesus. So, I thought maybe you could tell Jesus, ‘Thank
you’, for me.”
“Yes,” he said, with rejuvenated spirit, “yes, I can.”
“Thank you, Santa. Oh, and Santa, can you give my Mommy and Daddy a nice
dinner away from the hospital on Christmas day? They have been there every night
for a long time and I think they could use a night off.”
“I will see what I can do,” said Santa, with a tear in his eye.
The little girl climbed down off of Santa’s lap, thanked him for the most beautiful
snow globe she had ever seen, and wandered off down the mall holding her
Santa sat there in the dark for the longest time, having forgotten the hundreds of
kids who soured his Christmas spirit and smiled, full of Christmas joy for the present
he had just received.
“And, Jesus,” the mall Santa said, “Thank you from me, too.”
"In this town, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise."
Gather round children of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with me and you will see.
Let us set the stage, for this is Halloween.
Whispers hum in the wind. (I am the clown with the tear-away face)
HALLOWEEN! HALLOWEEN! the crowd chants.
Master scares and creeps.
This, our circus on Halloween.
Don't be late now, for after the show, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise.
This is Halloween.
"Life's no fun without a good scare" we sing.
"I am the wind blowing through your hair; I am the hoo? when you call "who's
I am the one hiding under the bed, teeth grown sharp and eyes gone red." my friend
sings as the rest of the group sings the pumpkin song.
"La, la, la la la, la. Life's no fun without a good scare! La, la, la la la, la. THIS IS
HALLOWEEN! THIS IS HALLOWEEN! HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN.
As the song ends, it is replaced by the eerie tinkling of a music box; slow and scary.
But, hey. That's what we're here for; the scares.
SEA TO SHINNING SEA,
...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time is...so close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
...this is so intimate of dreams,
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
being so true...
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
Sea to shinning Sea.
A Stormy Christmas Eve
It had been snowing all day and
the skies were looking glum.
My mama started crying when
the mailman didn’t come.
Tomorrow would be Christmas Day;
Dad said, “I’ll ride to town.”
He put his warm raccoon coat on
and pulled his big hat down.
Then my mama began to fret.
I saw her fingers drumming.
“Do you think that you really should?
I fear a storm is coming”.
My daddy said, “I’ll be okay
if I am riding Dan.
You know that horse will find the way.
He’s smarter than a man.”
Then Mama gave him a big kiss
and said, “Now do take care.”
She waved him off into the storm
and wiped away her tear.
My mama plucked the turkey and
kept looking at the clock
while little brother prattled on
about his Christmas sock.
The storm was growing stronger and
the light turned into dark,
while I was just a wishing I
would hear old Ringo bark.
Mama lit the kerosene lamp
and started slicing bread.
“I should have told him Christmas could be late.”
I think she said.
About then I heard Ringo bark
and saw my mama smile.
I knew I’d hear my daddy at
the back door in a while.
That horse of Daddy’s brought him
safely home through blowing storm.
He said that he was glad to be
back home where it was warm.
Then he said he’d met a stranger
while on his homeward way.
He recognized old Santa Claus
with reindeer and red sleigh.
Santa said he would be happy
to lighten up his pack
and be obliged if Daddy would
relieve him of plump sack.
So little brother went to bed
to wake to a surprise
from Santa Claus whom our Daddy
had seen with his own eyes.
By Joyce Johnson
(inspired by “Seein’ Santa” picture)
I was twelve years old and it was the Christmas Season.
We were on our best behavior; you know the reason.
Christmas decorations were taken down from storage.
Some of them were from last year; some of them were vintage.
Dad brought in the Christmas tree, a fragrant Douglas fir.
Mom put on twinkle lights while listening to our banter.
The three of us, laughing, imaginations unbound.
Jumping up and down with festivities all around.
One by one, we put on bulbs and talked of seasons past.
We sang a few Christmas songs; we were having a blast.
Logs burning in the fireplace warmed us very well.
Happiness was all around until I told this tale.
When I was just a youngster, seven or eight years back.
Christmas Eve, many years before, I shared the flashback.
The babysitter kept me up, my brother in bed.
She made me promise not to tell or I would be dead!
One by one, we opened each gift there beneath the tree.
I knew that it was wrong, because I was older than three.
I felt afraid, but she was so nice, a friend to me.
She re-wrapped every gift and my parents did not see!
I kept my mouth shut all of those years; then came the guilt.
I confessed to Mom; all of a sudden, life went tilt!
Santa won't bring presents; I felt like a doormat.
All you will get is a bag of coal; think about that.
Every time presents arrived, mine would disappear.
I did not believe in Santa Clause, but I felt fear!
Mounds of gifts were piled around; none of them were for me.
Wrath befell me for years past under the Christmas tree.
Solemnly, the weeks went past and I felt very sad.
I guess I deserved it after all; I had been bad.
On Christmas day, postal gifts returned along with one more.
The bag of switches from Santa Clause, I still abhor.
© November 14, 2010
Written for: your "Saddest" Christmas Ever Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
Memories of Christmas through the years,
Have brought lots of laughter and many tears.
Memories of those who have gone on home,
Sometimes leave us sad and alone.
The good times that were had by all,
Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, their happy faces I recall!
The gifts that were given, the fellowship we shared,
The love we all had, showed each other we cared.
The trees were so pretty, the food, oh so good,
Sometimes we would go caroling in the neighborhood.
We would exchange gifts by drawing names,
Some would get clothes, others might get games.
The homes would be decorated with ornaments and lights,
And we would all feast on the many delights!
There would be cakes, cookies, sandwiches, pies, and punch,
Some might eat a lot, others would just munch.
Before you knew it the night would be gone,
And the wait for next year would seem so very long!
But Christmas means more than just these things,
As we remember the birth of the Christ child and the salvation He brings!
He came into this world in a meek and lowly way,
Born of a virgin and in a manger lay.
The Shephards were frightened as the angels came to say,
The great news of His birth on this special day!
Born in Bethlehem, God's only son,
Savior from our sins, He is the only one!
So as I remember the Christmas's of old,
The greatest of all, was the one the prophets foretold!
One of America’s most treasured holiday and tradition is known as the celebration of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving a plentiful feast of food and a gathering of friends and family a holiday began as a feast in the beginning days of Americans is one of the most celebrated traditions .To some thanksgiving is just another holiday that is unimportant just another reminder that Christmas is just around the calendar .Just a day off of work or school ,a tradition passed on over the years, commonly excuse to over eat , an occasion that is between two months ,November the 4th Thursday and October the 2nd Monday for Canadians .
But in November 1621 ,after the pilgrims first harvest the Governor William Bradford established a feast and invited a group of the Native American allies .Now remembered as the “first Thanksgiving “ by Americans even though the pilgrims used this terms to describe the feast it was held for three consecutive days .Even though there isn’t a known historic banquet menu of there was record of that several of the Wampanoag guests arrived Bearing five dear by Edward Winslow who wrote in his journal .Also Many Historians suggest that many of the meals were served in traditional Native American spices and cooking methods . Because none of the pilgrims had oven and the Mayflower sugar supply had dwindled there was not the modern day traditional that featured pies, cakes and other desserts .The celebration of Thanksgiving has never changed through the year weather your nationality or faith background it is always been a time to express the thankfulness of family Thanksgiving is the day to reunite with family and feast upon food.
There are many traditions that come with thanksgiving but one that is know over all of America is the food. This tradition is know by many households is that many families struggle to finish out the thanksgiving without having a Ham or turkey on thanksgiving . Also many us have all heard you cant have a turkey day with football, Not every family in America makes football a part of their tradition but the most do .This could range form watching the game to having a little fun playing a game outside .
But you cant forget the essence of thankfulness this can be saying a prayer of thanks to the family gathering to tell what there most thankful for and There are many ways that this can be expressed.
Asked by a husband, each year before November ends.
His wife sits waiting, to see the tree upon the hill.
Messages of waiting, upon the first night, she sends.
To the building, that displays a tree, so still.
Each year, a tree lit on an, November night
She patiently waits at first, with anticipation growing.
Looking out her window, she gazes upon one delight.
This is a sign; Christmas is near as this tree is glowing.
He tells me she is watching, upon the mark of twilight.
He says it brings joy to her heart and tears to eyes.
To see the giant tree adorned, in brilliant color of white.
Truly a scene of beauty, which floats below the skies,
This tradition, handed down, before nineteen forties.
Vividly seen for miles, marking the seasons cheer,
Tree of lights that adorn a building rooftop with ease,
We all see this view, admiring, until the New Year.
The rooster crows early in the Zambian morning.
With subtle sunlight starting to appear on the Horizon, ten year old Dikembe begins
has journey to gather water for the family from the Luapula River.
With water buckets balanced on the ends of a bamboo stick he carries across his
shoulders, Dikembe returns to find his Mother starting a fire to fix a sparse
breakfast for her three children. The morning sun already beats down on the dusty
village now alive with life. The ever present flies are already pestering Dikembe and
the sores on his limbs.
Dikembe sees the white man on the horizon entering the village by foot, carrying his
bag of medicines.
Women and children start to form a line at the small hut he will use as his office on
this day. For hours, the white man examines one patient after another,
administering what little medicine he has and offering healthcare advice that he
knows is not understood and/or will go unheeded.
Dikembe sits in the corner of the hut, watching it all with curiosity.
At the end of the long day, the white man packs up his bag, walks over to Dikembe
and hands him a piece of gum. Dikembe smiles and mumbles, “Thank you” in broken
As he puts the piece of gum into his mouth, Dikembe remembers the stories one
white man once read to him from a book called the bible, and he thinks, “I love,
Christmas. I hope it is this nice again next year.”
It was a glorious, hot day soothed by the August's breeze; the town's copper bells
harmoniously chimed in their old, sturdy bell towers
as the band tuned to their festive sound with trumpets, trombones and marching drums.
The large square resounded with thousands of voices,
a procession of faithful flowed to the Church of Saint Stephen.
I ran upstairs with heavy breath to tell my sister to follow
them, but there on the flloor she layed with upward eyes, kind of lifeless;
and so hepeless not to find anyone, I stepped outside and saw
the saint's pious face and invoked Him for a miracle...suddenly I went back,
and instantly her face regained color and she began talking. I was convinced
that such a miracle happened because of my firm faith,
and that vision reinforces my belief that saints are the intercessors of God.
A few years ago
As dusk fell
It was blowing with snow
Billy Burke a young boy aged eight
Stayed after school until it was late
Helping teacher clear the party debris
When they left school they could hardly see
Teacher wanted to give Billy a ride
But brave little Billy politely declined
I'm taking the short cut thru the woods
And as he set out he drew up his hood
The wind howled and the air cold
As Billy struggled up another knoll
The trees were bare glistening with frost
Then Billy realized he was hopelessly lost
He should have seen his home by now
But all he saw was a broken down plow
Left in a clearing by a farmer years ago
Rusty and useless now covered with snow
Billy trudged on with beginnings of fright
But as he topped a rise a welcoming sight
The old Colby mansion but what was that din
Music and laughter he heard from within
The mansion had been abandoned for years
But not empty now he could tell by his ears
Billy drew closer light spilled on the snow
Thru the open door he stepped out of the cold
A Halloween costume party he saw at a glance
And by a blazing fireplace took up a stance
Carved out pumpkins had candles inside
These lit the room and the hallway besides
Billy saw monsters and a witch on a broom
His eyes opened wide as she flew about the room
How did she do that he wanted to know
But the guests only laughed in the fire's glow
They played games and ate party food
Then Billy hid a yawn he didn't want to be rude
He was bundled in his coat and sent on his way
But Billy protested he wanted to stay
However in a flash he was on the outside
The witch guest acting as guide
She led him back through the trees
Took him up on her broom when he said please
Billy looked down on the houses below
As they flew around town high above the snow
The storm had passed and they saw the moon
He was set down by his home and she flew off in the gloom
Billy went back to the mansion the next day at dawn
Imagine his surprise everything was gone
Dust thickly covered the furniture in the room
But in a cobwebbed corner he found the witch's broom
He remembered the witch goblins and ghosts
And the Count Dracula who acted as host
The dust in the mansion lay undisturbed on the wood
Except by the fireplace where Billy had stood
No one believed the story he told
Of Halloween night being lost in the cold
He stuck by his story they didn't know why
But you and I both know Billy wouldn't lie
That first Christmas night, pure love pierced the veil
When came His first gasp along with immense pain
As He cried out loud, His Mother's heart breaking
She gazed into the the most beautiful eyes then realized...
The King of Kings had stepped out of His glory!
Everybody knows him as Alessandro,
the handsome gigolo of Via Veneto,
and his lucky charms he sells to many a gorgeous lady,
he approaches them and says,
" Mademoiselle, parle vous Francais?"
as he struggles with words, she replies,"Oui"
And he continues with a perfect accent, "Je t'ame!"
shocked by the womaniser, the slender French young woman
looks at him and starts to laugh with an entertaining wit;
but the gigolo insists, " Tu es tres belle!"
And the petite mademoiselle exclaims," Merci!"
How can his sexiness win him this French woman?
"Vouz habite a' Paris?" and smiling she nods
" Oui...a' Paris, a' Belleville..un quartier de Paris!"
and the gigolo continues, " Un bel androit!"
" Beau garcon,, est-ce que La Fontana di Trevi...
est loin dici? And Alessandro excitedly replied,"
" Ce ne'st pas loin!"... and with a sign laguage,
he pointed to his red Ferrari, ready to steal her away!
Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci
Mademoiselle, parle vous Francais?"/ Young lady, do you speak French?
Tu es tres belle/ You are beautiful
Vouz habite a' Paris?/ Do you live in Paris?
Qui...a' Paris, a' Belleville...un quartier de Paris!/
Here...in Paris, in Belleville...a quarter in Paris!/
Un bel androit!/ A beautiful place
Beau garcon, est-ce que La Fontana di Trevi...est loin dici?/
Pretty boy, where's the Trevi Fountain...is it far?
Ce ne'st pas loin/ not too far
Was the night before Christmas
and all through the house, not
one living creature was stirring
not even my pet grouse…
When all of a sudden there was
this horrific noise, when I turned
around I saw it was a drunken
Santa staring at me through his
glassy red eyes and runny red nose…
It was all I could do not yell and
chase him out, for you see I couldn’t
let him leave to go to some other house…
All I could do was to scold him out
for he must have drunk all the rum
the men had put out…
Now I found myself making coffee,
to sober him up, so that he could leave and
place all the toys for all the good boys and
girls before the night would run out…
With Santa sobered up he was rearing
to go but before he left he promised me
no more “RUM” for it was to bold…
As he left to finish his rounds,
he yells “Merry Christmas” to all and
woke the neighbor-hood up…
Goodnight Santa and forget my
house for I don’t want anyone to
know that you are a drunken louse…
By Sandra Lea Hoban
It was the night before Thanksgiving, had
trouble sleeping, counting sheep don’t work…
Kept thinking of the leftovers that we would have,
knowing that they would be calling my name before long…
With no will power to speak, no matter what
I would do, I will be haring the turkey calling my
name soon, and the sweet potatoes, homemade noodles,
bread stuffing, green bean casserole and cranberries too…
Wouldn’t be able to fight temptation, no matter how hard I would try…
Would go running to the kitchen, opening the fridge door,
getting a plate and start pilling on the turkey, stuffing,
bean casserole too, then pack on the cranberries to boot…
Keep telling myself, that it’s just once a year that
I eat until I am plump and stuffed to the gills you hear…
The stuffing is tasty, the turkey is so tender,
the sweet potatoes all gooey with marshmallows,
oh, so yummy and of course the pie too…
The gravy was tasty and smooth with no lumps…
Pumpkin pie was piled wildly with whipped cream on top…
Oh, yes, saved a slice of pecan for later into the night…
Keep the Pepto Bismol and Alka-Seltzer close for
you will need one of both before the nights over!
By Sandra Lea Hoban
Many Christmas Trees are seen
around the Yule Season in my city;
they all are very tall and beautiful,
but the Rockefeller Plaza's Norway spruce
is the most gigantic and spectacular
with its multicolored lights that resemble stars.
Christmas is a wonderful experience on New York's City busy streets:
stores, pubs, restaurants and shops dress up with decorations so dazzling;
where else can you find a Santa ringing a bell and spreading good cheers...
wishing New Yorkers and visitors a Merry Christmas with a tone so thrilling?
On Christmas Eve, Saint Patrick's Cathedral echoes with joyful hymns,
and Child Jesus smiles at children as they caress His soft and divine face.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
The countdown to Christmas day begins
A festive season of light and joy within
Homes cleaned painted polished and buffed
Bright colored lights frame front entry doors
Of all the houses great and small
In living rooms stand the grand Christmas tree
What a delight for Father Christmas to see
Beautiful ornaments hang on every branch
Refreshing pine scent the whole house enhance
The smell of cinnamon wafting over hibiscus shrubs
Children run and play before bedtime soon
Low in the sky hangs a full yellow moon
Reflecting its brilliance on soft white sands
Graceful palm trees dance to the warm ocean breeze
As a billion stars blanket the navy blue sky
Twinkle in celebration of Christmas in my town
Entered in Carolyn Devonshire’s “Christmas In My Town” Contest
It's almost here,
when families celebrate,
in their own special way.
Miles will be traveled,
as the food is prepared,
that special home,
full of love, and prayers.
Be safe my friends,
in the air, and on road,
as you travel to loved ones,
to eat that turkey baked brown, and gold.
We will meet here again,
after this day,
take care my friends,
on this busy day.
Hollywood is trying to cash in
on an unrealistic movie about
the Earth's destruction bound
to happen in the next two years...
how could you believe it, fools?
Doesn't God create it to be everlasting?
It's all a myth leading everyone to believe
that's what exactly will occur almost instantly;
those fiction writers wouldn't care less
where you stand on this ridiculous story...
as long they make a huge profit and laugh
all to way to their bank...don't you agree?
Hollywood used to make great, memorable movies
to glorify the name of the Almighty, that even now
make a positive and sound impact on all of us;
every possible subject has been exploited
from drug to sex...from politics to bloodshed...
Hollywood has become the haven of ostentatious riches.
I wouldn't waste a buck and stand before
a screen that shamelessly proclaims this lie,
even the most ignorant person wouldn't fall for that!
Don't squander your hard-earned money on stupidity,
and make those greedy movie-makers rich for
a motion picture that promotes chaos and fret!
The Christmas' Season and Hanukkah are almost here and the Devil plots in Hell;
they couldn't have come up with a better idea, or a more inspiring story?
It's criminal and despicable to prey on a gullible audience,
and force them to believe in a fiction that goes beyond any credibility;
it's a time for reflection...to redeem ourselves and get rid of pretense,
refuse to be brainwashed by the entrepreneurs who are awaiting their share!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I took a trip out to the stars
one Astral leap, I landed on Mars
all those people living under glass jars
and driving clean biological cars.
Then Jupiter came a callin'
it did attempt fusion, but just kept stallin'
with an altered mass, I'm quickly fallin'.
Next I slungshot off to Titan
suspended when Jupiter's gravity did tighten
to pull away it tried a fightin'.
With another giant leap I arrived on Pluto
which as a planet is now a no go
it's been left out in the cold
with the solar systems debris of old
from Uranium to Ice and Gold
the Kuyper belt, with no trousers to hold.
Next up was Andromeda
lit up like Brighton Komedia
whizzing all about, near or far.
Epic jaunts through timeless space
meetin' and greetin' all kinds of race
from toes for tongues and hands for face
every feature had a different place
some were hideous, others truly shone grace
Velvet skin, with hair made of Lace
that really was a soft cushioned embrace.
The places I've been and the sights I've seen
like living a lifetime in one forever dream
the edge of infinity I touched it's seam
And saw the Universe cascade like a conscious stream!
Getting into the Christmas spirit,
by examining my introspection
and making new plans for the future;
and sparking up your imagination...
could anyone imagine me dressed
as Santa Claus, who never has the minimal time
to watch a log consumed by a crackling fire?
Think again, I could be that Saint Nicholas so bold!
Prejudice is not a part of this Christmas Season,
all kinds of people, of different ages and races,
celebrate it; and it may vary from country to country
with traditions as far as Saturnalia or Yuletide...
that was a time when pagans started this festivity,
and with the birth of Jesus, the Christians
adopted these traditions as their own...
so should we object and put them aside?
Getting into the Christmas spirit,
unpacking decorations for my new Christmas Tree,
from boxes that waited too long for this day of joy;
and even my toddler, Jack, comes downstairs tripping,
handing me Grandma's favorite star, which
she had hidden away into a treasure chest so jealously,
to place on the top of this forest-scented pine tree...
when we all gather and sing," Silent Night."
Getting into the Christmas spirit,
adding, not taking away names from my long list;
and even though these are tough economic times,
I plan to be generous to all without feeling the pinch!
Give the very best of your intentions,
either in gift or in warmest embrace;
give and be content to catch that infant's smile in the distance;
the tender smile of the Holiest Child, who will give of Himself!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Today is the Very First Day
The Very First Day of the Very First Year
The Very First Year of a New
And Very long awaited Decade.
I turn my head toward the Future to say
As if to say to all of the Ended of Days
'The Past Year is now all gone away
The New Year is what now is here to stay.'
And then I take off and begin to fly
Toward what is beyond Yesterday's Clouded Skies
And to look into the Virgin and Childish Eyes
Of a Future that has not as of yet
Been seen or spoken to.
I close my eyes to the Passed and Ended of Days
Of the Year has gone before these Hours
It is ended.
It is done.
It can be changed no more.
No more Days to be started anew
No more Sunrises, no more Skies of Blue
Or Cloudy Greys
Or Nights to be Forgotten
From that Year.
I shall have no worrisome Regrets
For what has been done
That I cannot redo
For what has been said
That I can never undo.
I shall live with no regrets
And I should hope that neither should you.
I shall strive to free myself from that thought
That stone that would hang about me as a noose
That dreaded contemplation
Of all that is and what has come before
Of All that has ever been
That I cannot undo
That heartfelt beat of untimely unrest.
We can change it nevermore.
For what's Done is Done
Is Done and Gone
And for tomorrow and today
This very minute
This very hour
This very second
This very day
Are when I can strive to start Anew.
To move ever toward my own Choosings
Toward skies that are ever clearer and more blue
To hold and grasp life's Golden Goose
To sail toward Uncharted Lands
Toward the Exciting and the New
The Past is in the Past
The Future has nothing more to lose.
To inhale Life as a Breathe of Air
To be as Free and Loose as my locks of hair
To live without a care
To be not afraid to dare
To never live in what has been left behind
In the Cobwebs of our last year's Minds.
To take care not ever to Lose
Any of your Stones that have been left unturned
And to not lose track of any of your Bridges
Any of your Bridges that you have left unburned.
And not to ever leave behind
A Minute or Second of Life's Cherished Time
To hold that thought firmly in your Mind
Along with your Thoughts and Ideals
That so quietly lie
Underneath those Precious Stones
That so often End up at the End of our Lives
So sadly left unturned.
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,
So, it is your Happy Birthday
Do you know exactly what
Almost like a Humna Secular
Devotion fore on this day
You have been chosen
A son of man by distention
A child of God
And made in his own image
Today you are born
With one Soul to bear
Flesh in one body
A Spirit to make you whole
Are we expected to call this
To be only human
The fake isolation of the island insinuated the fostering of remnants;
remnants of religious fervor, close knit seafaring families, and rugged farmers;
remnants of power past and present.
A fog shrouded canvass awaits the onslaught of August revelry.
And, where widows walked the peeks of robber barons manses, the elementals now play.
Tomato red fire trucks ring the seaside green. Throngs of , oh so, polite W.A.S.P.S
and multicultural couples dot the lawn in precise groupings.
The squeal of stroller strapped toddlers echo across ocean
and down alleyways lined with painted ladies
Gay blades and saucy sisters saunter unharassed through the crowds of young families.
Prosperously retirees with salt and pepper hair in pink and green golf shirts line the porches
of the gingerbread homes ringing the green.
In the gazebo a brass band plays John Phillip Souza and closes by belting out
the American anthem, after dark, no flag wave, yet random patriots stand.
Their forms silhouette upon the gray fog like their intentions
mocking the holiday aire with their reminder of war….
those raging on in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan.
and fade with the crowds roar to “Sit down your blocking the view!”
And as the elite, and privileged meet and greet chatting in wonder over the multiple sightings
of airforce one choppers and past President Clinton.
The three times the worlds average wage is spent on FIREWORKS, frivolously,
for the entertainment of the richest citizens of the planet. God Blessed America.
As the children calmly sleep, snow begins to fall on this quiet Christmas eve.
Mom and dad slowly find there way down the hall to pear in on the children all
nestled tightly in there beds. Soon after mom and dad would retire to the front
by the fire. Mom with her book and dad with his paper. They too soon would drift
of into dream land. They all would dream of Christmases from yesteryear, here
and now, and the future. Soon the anticipation would soon pass for another
Christmas has come and gone. But don't you worry it soon will return with all it's
shimmering lights, love, and laughter. And always remember tis the season.
We went on holiday,this past week
For rest and recreation,we did seek;
Creation,fellowship an abundant grace
Here,martins also found a space,
In the eaves,they with us ,shared this place
Feb. 14, I felt a profound longing for love in my soul./ So I got out of the house for a
afternoon stroll./ A beautiful day to be in the park, one would think it was spring./ Valentines
day was in full swing!/ So many couples out enjoying this gorgeous day./ I felt I was
somehow in the way./ I thought to myself, "Man this ain't fair, all this love in the air."/ I just
felt out of place./ But something happened and you may call me a nut case!/
In the sky/ somthing caught my eye./ I nearly wet my pants,/ but at first glance/ I
thought it was a plane./ You may say I'm insane,/ or say "that's absurd,"/ but it wasn't a
bird!/ What I saw, I saw clearly./ "Cupid" flew down and hovered 10 feet from me!/ I heard
him sing,/ then he pulled back on his bowstring,/ and a arrow shot towards me!/
A couple nearby probably figured me a man on the verge of insanity,/ because they saw
me dive into a roll!/ I ignored the couple, turned to cupid and screemed "You asshole!" The
couple begin laughing, but I ignored them./ Cupid came closer, I picked up a rock and threw
it at him!/
This was turning into a bad day./ I turned and attempted to run away./ All of a sudden a
woman popped into my mind/ the instant I felt a "sting" in my behind!/ I could have swore I
saw Cupid zip past me and yell "Farewell!"/ And then to the ground I fell!/
That arrow would surely change my view of love in the world;/ For when I came too, I
was face to face with this strange girl./ She was gorgeous and I knew this was the one I had
to marry!/ I asked her name and she said, "Audrey Carey!"
Soon the magic will begin,
that special time, for all children.
Early to bed, early to rise,
with that Christmas look, in their eyes.
Toys galore, covering the floor,
and when grandma comes, there will be more.
Turkey baking, it smells divine,
it blends in perfect, with the aroma of pine.
Christmas stories will be on TV,
and dad relaxing, waiting on these.
Mom has been busy, baking cookies, and all,
and saying Merry Christmas, when anyone calls.
Yes, magic and miracle, describes this time of year,
and one special birthday is getting near.
Happy Birthday Jesus, you are welcome here.
As the fragrance fades,
of love once so deep,
into the unknown,
where she now weeps.
Silent she stares,
at what once was there,
pictures, a reminder,
when her children were there.
Silver is her hair,
her body frail, and weak,
she calls their names,
as the tears roll down her cheeks.
Where have they gone,
why don't they call,
forgotten in time,
trying to recall.
Miles are between them,
their busy days, and nights,
just trying to survive,
and a mother cries.
Lonely she is,
and lonely she will be,
as she hangs their pictures,
on her Christmas Tree.
The new year is coming,
the old winding down,
how many will see it,
how many will not be around.
Parties have been planned,
new outfits have been bought,
how many will stay sober,
how many will get caught.
Fireworks will glisten,
and rumble into the sky,
how many will be careful,
how many will die.
Families, some will gather,
to welcome in the new,
how many will be here next year,
how many, if we only knew.
My family, and friends,
please be careful, have fun, enjoy,
but just remember,
we are not guranteed another day,
love, laugh, and be grateful for the
many blessings that have been given to us.
I love you all.....
It is the day before the day,
of Thanksgiving Eve,
and the kitchen is steaming,
cooking vittles to eat.
Possum, and Armadilla,
hope we have enough,
last year we had complaints,
the meat was to tough.
Corn on the cob,
steaming the room,
in run the cats,
chase them out with the broom.
oh man the smell,
grandma had to look,
at the little ones tail.
Potatoes slightly burned,
we'll just scrape that off,
Aunt Julie's got the flu,
gee, what a cough.
Pallets on the floor,
we're all wall to wall,
three days, and counting,
we're having a ball.
Hope your day is happy,
as the gang piles in,
from our house to yours,
welcome, family, and friends.
The turkey tradition has carried on,
you can probably find one, in every home.
Some are deep fried, until golden brown,
while others are baked, with stuffing in the pan.
The bigger the better, for feeding your folks,
a satisfying meal, is your biggest hope.
Frozen or fresh, the turkey shall stay,
your biggest attraction, on Thanksgiving Day.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.
with family, and friends,
the way it's always been.
huddled around the tree,
as a story is read,
about shepherds, and sheep.
Where one little boy,
was born on this day,
in a manger with hay.
So many questions,
about how He lived, and died,
and why did those people,
make Jesus cry.
Then all the presents,
are given to them,
and they sing Happy Birthday,
to Jesus The King.
Come on in my family, and friends,
let us all work together, as the preparation
Grab that turkey, and warsh him real good,
better make sure we have plenty of wood.
Fire up the stove, and get it real hot,
sure hope paw got out all the buckshot.
Cut up them onions, and chop them real fine,
make sure you don't cut your fingers this time.
Grab you a chere, and sit down right here,
grandma is busy icing down all the beer.
Uncle Pete is piled up, watching the game,
he is hollering for snacks, the only reason he came.
Pick that dishrag up off the floor,
this is the last one, we don't have nary more.
Set the table with paper plates, and cups,
maybe this year, we just might have enuff.
Save all them cans, and put them in this box,
we sure wish grandpa could be here with us, but he
is still in detox.
After we eat, and our bellies are full,
the guys will jack the cars up, and get under the hood.
From our house to yours we wish you the best,
Happy Thanksgiving from us all, now it is time to rest.
It is almost here,
that glorious day,
when Christ lay sleeping,
in a manger far away.
Wise men traveled,
bringing gifts so fine,
for they knew this baby,
was intervention divine.
A gift from Heaven,
His Father had a plan,
the only way to eternity,
for every woman, and man.
The season is love,
for a child was born,
come Christmas Morn.
The tree is made of mostly plastic and metal,
With blinking lights above its plastic pedestal.
With ornaments of wood, plastic and glass,
Decorate its branches amass.
A star that twinkles like the one in the sky above,
Placed gently atop my tree with love.
With presents lying neath its outward branches,
And children’s imagination as to what are the chances.
They weigh the boxes and gently shake them too,
Hoping upon hope to just get a clue.
As wrapping paper gets slightly torn, accidental for sure,
The children look so innocent and pure.
A gift is a gift no matter the price,
If given from the heart it has to be nice.
With family and friends we gather around,
This decorated tree where our love will be found.
Before presents are passed out we say a little prayer,
And thank our Lord and Savior for the love that He shares.
Happy Birthday baby Jesus I heard someone say,
You are the reason we celebrate Christmas Day.
May peace and joy and love fill your lives on this Holy day,
And continue to guide you and show you the way!
Merry CHRISTmas to all, it came from a manger filled with hay,
And gave His life’s blood so we all could receive the Kingdom one day.
The Christmas lights have now been lit,
Jack Frost has made his hit.
Before too long, the sleigh bells will ring,
as Santa readies his things.
That big day is nearing, the mood is set,
I bet this time of year, his wish is for a jet.
Way back when,
Living with my father Harry,
One Halloween I had an idea spark,
Seemed to me it'd be a lark....
Thus the tale of When Harry's House Held
The Horrific Holloween Hex..from Hell
Early 70's, my favorite time did approach,
For scary Halloween tricks and pranks,
I intended to truely host...
So, I spent some time, with tools and wood,
Made a faux- coffin, looked pretty good!
Placed a self made dummy inside,
His head a bar-room prop for "Old Grand Dad",
This was gona be fun for me to be had,
Dressed him up, looking better all the time,
Stuck a big knife in him...
Guess it had been a vicious crime,
Ketchup blood stains,
Covered all in clear plastic wrap,
Placed it in the living room,
Just inside our front door,
But I wasn't done, I planned much, much more...
Forgive me, if I've already told this tale,
I can't remember,....oh, what the hale...
Had my girlfriend dress up like Morticia,
Black dress and more,
Put on my ill fitting black suit,
Almost ready for the door...
Powdered our faces with white talc,
Held a candle holder for the day
Put on eerie organ funeral music,
Still got more to say....
Set up two chairs near the "coffin",
My parents became the grieving mourners,
Waited for our victims to arrive,
Knew they'd remember this Halloween,
As long as they were alive....
Didn't take long,
Till the first kids came....
I opened the door slowly,
They would never be the same.....
Each group of children who knocked,
Ran out in great fright....
Oh, my golly, this gona be some night!!
Some dropped their bags of candy...
Boy I was "cleaning up"
The only house around,
Whose candy quantities tripled
by the cup!!
Then some frightened children,
Returned with many a wary parent,
Didn't believe their stories,
Thinking "No Way! They simply daren't!!"
Well, I escaped jail,
really don't know how...
But it left me with this tale...
That I tell often, as now.
The stores are busy, readying the shelves,
Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, what a mess.
Too much stuff, crammed into three months,
all at once, put out in front.
Buy, buy, buy, now wait a minute folks,
Santa is now wearing a Vampire cloak.
I see ghost dressed like elves, and turkeys
pulling the sleigh, I'm confused here, about
One at a time, is all we can stand,
not, all at once, cram, cram, cram.
I bow down to but one God my friend,
He’s the one who will judge my actions in the end.
And it hurts to see this nation turning away from Him
We are allowing the wrong few to lead and the prognosis is grim.
The day that I have to start calling a Christmas tree a holiday tree,
Will be the last year I put it up it will end it for me.
Jesus died over two thousand years ago just for you and me.
And I will still celebrate His birth with or without the tree.
The Nativity scene is outlawed on most courthouse squares,
And what about our children the ones that want to say prayers.
The Ten Commandments written in stone by Gods on hand,
Has been taken out of public offices I don’t understand.
These same politicians that go to church on Sunday,
Seem to forget about God and His laws come Monday.
Maybe I’m dumb or blind as a bat,
But I sure enough know when I’m smelling a rat.
The Lord says to forgive and that is the hardest thing that I do,
And I’m also suppose to pray for people like you.
I can forgive you and pray for you but that still doesn’t make it right.
I don’t understand why this is happening it makes me want to fight.
But that’s the old devil trying to tempt me he’s done that now for years,
Jesus never owed us nothing but He died to save us and take away our fears.
And this is how we repay Him trying to renail Him back upon that cross?
I sure pity you when that day comes and you find out what you’ve lost.
Thank you Lord Jesus just for being there for me.
Thank you Lord Jesus, I pray You open up their eyes and hearts and let them hear and see.
It's the day after Thanksgiving, and all across town,
people getting up early, shopping malls bound.
Sleigh gassed up, and purses are too,
don't forget those credit cards, what ever you do.
Sneakers on the feet, gotta move real fast,
sales start early, the goodies won't last.
Santa will be waiting, perched high on his seat,
screaming children, and after this, he is sure to be beat.
When, from a store close by, someone began to shout,
they will sell you a gift, but there is nobody to wrap.
Some started fussing, where are the elves,
not too many toys left on the shelves.
Ho, Ho, Ho, came a familiar sound,
I will do the wrapping, somebody help me down.
I gained some weight during the year,
eating real late, and drinking the cheer.
So, let's get this season started, with laughter please,
just look at the presents, and all the beautiful trees.
Ho, Ho, Ho.....Merry Christmas
It didn't seem so long ago that Christmas brought a warmth
A sense of belonging and a spiritual joy
A time for the family, a time for neighbors to stop in
Traditional events unchanging from year to year
A sense of continuity, a warmth from within the heart
The old black and white TV had its share of snow
Alistair Sim played Scrooge and
There was a Miracle on Thirty Fourth Street
Bing sang White Christmas
It wasn't a Holiday, it was an event, a Celebration
The Birthday of Jesus, the Star in Bethlehem, the Angels
There were Shepherds, Three Kings, a Nativity scene
Silver Bells playing while shopping downtown
Strangers smiled and said Merry Christmas
A genuine feeling of good will.
No other time of the year brought this kind of joy
In spite of low income there was an abundance of food
Cookies and egg nog were made at home
Presents could be opened after church, not before
Children laughing, giggling in anticipation
Heat coming from the old Heatrola in the parlor
Neighbors sharing the good times
Kids playing on the floor in the living room
The smell of pine and spruce in the homes
A time of joy, a time of laughter
A time of peace on Earth.
Merry Christmas Everyone.
The old haunted house upon sycamore hill,
Is the scariest place with ghosts for real.
You can hear their screams and crying out,
You’re welcome to look if you’ve got a doubt.
No one can last the whole night long,
Staying in that house from dusk till dawn.
The last one who tried his hair turned white,
And he didn’t even last one hour into the night.
The story goes Janey Freedman was caught by her husband having an affair.
He came home early and caught Tommy Stickmen there.
They both pleaded as he took dead aim,
Tommy pleaded that they’d done nothing wrong and there was no shame.
The shots were fired and the deed was done.
Then he shot himself with that same old gun.
Janey had hired Tommy to do a portrait painting of her for her husbands birthday.
They were discussing the details and the price she would have to pay.
Almost eighty years have passed since that horrible night.
A cursed place with those souls crying out for some one to make it right.
The place is still for sale,
If you’re not scared of all these urban tales.
It’s really quite nice least the outside is.
If you want to see the inside don’t ask for me please ask for Liz.
Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to all,
may your days be many, and your disappointments
May you walk hand in hand, with the people you love,
enjoying each blessing, that's given each day, while
making new friends along the way.
May your smiles grow bigger, and your frowns fade away,
bringing new happiness, where sadness once lay.
May this year end with a song in your heart,
and new one begin, with joy from the start.
May poems be written, by the old, and new,
for they are our connection, in this place called Soup.
Merry Christmas Friends.....
It was late December, and snowing quite heavy,
Santa was busy packing, getting things ready.
One more time he glanced his list,
making sure there was nothing missed.
Walking to the barn, he counted the heads,
all eating their oats, getting ready to pull the sled.
Ho, Ho, Ho, said the jolly old man,
I see you really like the cheaper brand.
Times are tough, and we have to be thrifty,
hasn't been this bad, since the fifties.
This year the sleigh, won't weigh as much,
toys are made cheaper, and don't weigh so much.
Factories shut down, people out of jobs,
and the drought has dwindled the fruit crop.
I have my map, and my radar too,
houses foreclosed, but my children , I can't lose.
Now, drink all your water, and quench your thirst,
the rivers are drying up, there's nothing but dirt.
Some of the houses we will be stopping on,
will not be lit up, daddies are not home.
They are fighting some long, messed up war,
and their children can't see them, it is way to far.
Things are quite different this year, you see,
some have forgotten what Christmas means.
Let us get going, we have much to do,
before Santa is forgotten too.
My Christmas wish for all of you,
is that your smiles are many, not few.
The path you take, on your journey through life,
will bring you happiness, and your nights be bright.
Velvet will be the cushion, that breaks your falls,
and rainbows of beauty will follow you all.
You will have peace in your heart, that we all search for,
while any shadows that linger, will be gone forever more.
This is my wish to all my friends near, and far,
our distance may be great, but we gaze upon the same stars.
Merry Christmas from the South, to every corner of the world,
each of you are so precious, Soups finest, diamonds, and pearls.
Little tree don't weep today,
your limbs so tiny, and frail,
but stronger, and stronger,
with each passing snow,
as nature watches you grow.
You're just a treeling,
in the forest of life,
waiting for another season.
One day you'll be the one,
a family calls their own,
decorated in lights of color,
adding beauty to that home.
Dry your little branches little one,
and drink from the nourishing soil,
time will get you ready,
for that special girl or boy.
She looked so sad, as the tree was lit,
tell me Lord, how much worse will life get?
I work all the time, hardly seeing my young,
and looking around me, not much have I done.
A mother so young, barely seventeen,
it's hard to imagine, the struggles I've seen.
Now it's Christmas, and the presents are few,
tell me Jesus, what should I do?
Suddenly a knock, so softly heard,
she asked, "who is there," but no one said a word.
Slowly she opened the door to see,
who in the world, who could it be.
There stood a man, with his beard so white,
glowing all over, against the night.
"Greetings my child, I am so lost,
can I stay with you, I hope this will cover the cost."
Shocked, and amazed, she invited him in,
closing the door, she noticed it was snowing again.
Who are you, and where are you from,
by the way he was dressed, she knew he was not a bum.
I'm just an old man, who is all alone,
I don't have family, everyone is gone.
I want you to have this, and he put it in her hand,
it was the deed to her house, compliments of this man.
How did you know, I was barely getting by,
and how did you know, this house I wanted to buy?
I live far away, and I have houses I rent,
this is the only one, the payment is always sent.
It means nothing to me, the money, and things,
but to you my child, it is everything.
I also have stocks, in the place where you work,
half I give to you, and the other to my church.
Thank you for a lesson I learned from you,
if you want it bad enough, you do what you have to do.
As Christmas brings us joy and peace this time of year,
Keep your heart merry and filled with admiration and good cheer.
A simple and kind act here and there,
Share your blessings with those who have less and cannot share.
Don’t be a Scrooge, don’t be unkind,
Give of yourself, you’ll have peace of mind.
If you see a family in need somewhere,
Give with your heart learn how to share.
Be a role model for all to see.
Show the world how good giving can truly be.
Think of the elderly who already have gave so much.
All they now seek are a few kind words and maybe a tender touch.
The elderly are part of a pushed away society.
As they no longer can function they lose all notoriety.
Forgiveness and kindness are the greatest gifts that we can give.
They are life’s lessons that teach us how we all should live.
Pray for harmony throughout the land.
Pray for God to send peace and for all to understand.
And don’t forget the real reason for this holiday.
Thank the Lord for Jesus and the price He had to pay.
The birth of our Savior was chosen to be this day.
Wise men came to Him from far away.
Bringing gifts they were laden down.
Searching for baby Jesus in that far off town.
King of all Kings, Man of all Men,
Forgiver of all our mortal sins.
Jesus is the Greatest Gift you can ever receive.
And it’s free of charge to those who truly believe.
Liberty in our country, sometimes
we forget the price,
that many have paid, and are paying,
allowing us the privilege of a restful night.
Imagine unrest every day of your life,
imagine the bombs every night.
We are so fortunate, even if we do complain,
to have such a country, and America is
Some would give their every dime,
to have what we have, leaving their country
So Happy New Year, for we are blessed indeed,
we have the honor, of living in the land
of the free.
Thank You Our American Soldiers, and
Happy New Year.
We Love You All.
Holiday tears, are common for me,
around here, they water my tree.
Darkness is captured in his every word,
I can't remember, when kindness was heard.
His wife I am, but really I'm not,
feelings, and compassion,
somehow he forgot.
Same address, and we use the same key,
but wood, and shingles are not enough for me.
The names I am called, I have heard many a time,
I give up, I'm tired of trying.
Friends don't worry, this girl is tuff,
I'm venting my feelings for old goat gruff.
Comment if you like, but you don't have to,
I know you are reading this, thank you.