Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.218.54.80
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem

"An X-Mess Carol"

Somewhere standing barefoot
in the sand, she thought with guilty pleasure
“This is the KORO SEA!” and
conjured up a multitude of story scenarios
Buccaneers, Pirates Parlay, Treasure Maps, 
Davy Jones Locker, Jack Sparrow, Ho’es
you know, those 
childhood things
and for a short hit, guilty pleasure
then the tide dragged the sand
out hard from underneath her feet,
she was sinking.

3 Christmases 
had gone by.
2 missed.
The moon was pulling the tide extra hard
She felt she was being dragged 
feet first out to sea
Magnetic, gravity 
“SHE”
was calling her in again.

The Kid missed her, 
Though she would never admit it.
The Kid didn’t need to hear “SHE”,
she could feel her,
that’s called Empathy.

The Kid understood 
what was so very wrong, this time
what was amiss
Too late now though to turn around.
The Kid had backed herself into a corner
between a rock and a hard place with
a spiteful, alienating lobbyist.
Quietly she said
under her breath,
“This isn’t Christmas”.

Polarized.

Staring way out to the horizon, 
she thought, 
“This is not an escape - 
“THIS IS POLITICS”.

“Politics can be a dirty business.” 
The Kid heard SHE’s voice speak to her
arriving on the breeze.

The Kid recalled 
talks about Paris, 
“…..won’t that be great!” 
“SHE” had said, 
looking over her shoulder at the Kid, 
as she grated lemon rind,then
beat the Double Thick Cream, Lemoncello
Vanilla Bean Paste, Mascarpone for the 
Christmas Trifle
in the Kitchen Whizz, test taste.
Place Cointreau soaked Savoardi in a
fine crystal bowl, pour over the mix,
repeat 3 times
add passionfruit pulp, sliced bananas, 
slivered almonds, fresh raspberries.
“After graduation. You and me Kid. Paris it is!!”

All the effort with the Xmas Lunch,
Ham and Turkey, a special brunch.
Money scarce, but nothing spared,
her kid was HOME -
that’s all that she cared.

Although it was only the two of them
what the Kid didn’t see back then, 
was not just that
 “SHE” always catered for the Kid’s
every whim….

”SHE” was the only one 
who had listened 
intently to all her fabulous stories
the character keys, the maps
that the kid was drawing
the delivery of her precis, 
this, the shared commonality - 
and when “SHE” asked for a repeat,
it wasn’t that she wasn’t listening
she was keenly taking 
THE FULL PLOT 
back in again.

“It’s not important what’s under the tree,
what matters most is who’s around it, see?”

This is what is important at Christmas.
“HOME”.

The Kid was now taking the full plot in…

(Lovejoy-Burton/2017 Dec)
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required