In The Tiny Town of Bethlehem

Written by: John Rhinem

Reserving the right to break away unto a clear blue day; viewing

Certain labels upon the bottles and cans; time reeling in chains....

And they say that patience is a virtue as I drop them from my hands

Exiting lifes alleyways; fingers brushing atop the gray mortared bricks

Whileas peering at the clearing just ahead; resolve unto resolutions

Tossing this worn book into a bin; combing my pockets for a pen

A crumpled piece of paper to take another note; a cobweb or two

Lingering amid the trees in columns aligned aside yesterdays mist....

Reaching for the door to escape another winters morn; familiar the

Crowd greeting myself as I enter in; a warm cup of coffee awaiting

With a kiss upon the cheek and a towel to dry my hair; songs of cheer

Tossing this bag of cans and bottles into the corner; afore the fire....

Reeling in chains reserved for the warmth upon a clear blue day; breaking 

Glasses joyfully within the place; such light piercing through this window

In the shape of a star swaying atop my palm; searching deep my pockets

Scribbled somewhere are these notes; reflections etched aneath a bridge

Laughing now as reading aloud; 'tis good to see you again my child'....


...."Coming Home for The Holidays" *