Twas the night before Christmas
when I and my groom
finally found a motel
but with just one room.
My groom was in the bathroom -
leaving me alone-
so that he could douse himself
with some cheap cologne.
I - in my red negligee -
thought of bump and grind,
visions of his sugar plums
dancing in my mind.
Then a noise I heard outside
gave me such a fright!
who was out there in the snow
on our special night?
Opening our small room’s door,
I felt like a goof.
It was just an icicle
falling off the roof.
Then I felt a sudden breeze.
One unlucky bride!
As the door behind me shut,
I was locked outside.
When upon my motel door
I began to pound,
it was clear that my dear groom
did not hear a sound.
Right before my startled eyes,
what should then appear?
Someone dressed as Santa Claus,
filling me with fear!
His eyes, though not so cheery,
lit up, seeing me
as he crossed the street and came
I stood helpless, trembling in
scanty siren red
when an icicle fell down
clunking my poor head.
I revived in the ER,
thong still on my rump!
Underneath my bandage was
an enormous lump.
Thankfully my groom was there,
smelling of Old Spice.
But we’d have no chance to give
gifts naughty and nice.
At our room I later saw
Santa Claus was there -
that same guy who’d seen me in
Having seen my accident
he’d informed my groom
right before he then collapsed
stone drunk in our room.
Santa on our honeymoon
with cheeks rosy red,
(but not one “Merry Christmas”),
stole our wedding bed.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
The magic came to Christmas Day when shepherds first were told,
When wise men brought their frankincense, their myrrh and gifts of gold,
When heaven opened wide its gates and angels came to sing;
For in a manger on the hay, lay Christ, the newborn king.
I found it first at Grandma's house, so many years ago,
When she prepared her Christmas treats and Grandpa seemed to glow.
The house was full of warmth and love, so sweet, so pure and real;
And what I cherish most of all, that Christmas magic feel.
It's in the music, on the air; just turn the dial to find
Inspiring songs that sing of peace, goodwill to all mankind.
They sing their praises unto God and spread their Christmas cheer,
And everywhere the songs are sung, they find an opened ear.
Its clamor, sparkle, warmth and hope, of which we try to write
In pretty lines of words and rhymes that never sound just right,
Can best be seen in children's eyes when they awake to see
What Santa Claus has brought and placed beneath the lighted tree.
The magic feel returns each year with warmth on coolish nights,
With memories steeped in seasons passed, in songs and blinking lights,
At Grandma's house, her Christmas treats, aromas rich and spiced;
To recognize the best in man, and honor Jesus Christ.
Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009
It is Christmas Eve, all preparations for the day are done,
My hand grabs the doorknob as I step out to take a stroll,
On this peaceful night the village is silent, and I see no one,
Walking under the warm glow of a decorated streetlight pole.
I stand and gaze at the windows of the house next door,
Where a tree glows with bubble lights and tinsel strands,
Three stockings holding wishes, await over the fire's roar,
A scene straight from a dream, so wonderful and grand.
Glancing upwards, as the clouds glide across the moon,
Silver stars are out mingling with the drifting snowflakes,
A sight to enjoy here and now, for morning will be here soon,
A beautiful Christmas memory, deep in my heart to take.
Only one car comes up the street, as I walk along our lane,
Just a friendly snowman is there to greet me with a hello,
I stop, adjust his top hat, and reposition his pipe and cane,
This cold-hearted man has made a child smile, I know.
My ears lead me to the street corner where carolers sing,
As those old familiar notes drift towards me on the air,
More sounds seem to awaken as the bells distantly ring,
I felt nothing but a warming glow as I was standing there.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Each year before Christmases of the past
Past visitors came to trim my holiday tree
Tree with ornaments homemade to last
Lasting, unique gifts of their artistry
Artistry now shown in a wreath on my door
Door filled with treasures I was blessed to receive
Received gifts from those who are with us no more
More reminders that love in my heart will never leave
*For Dr. Ram's "Wreath" Contest. (Eight-line quatrain/rhyme using the last word of each line as the first word of the next line.) Merry Christmas, everyone!
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
It's twelve days before Christmas, Love, and I am sitting here,
the hearth fire is burning bright, but on my cheek they're tears.
I hold the conch shell to my ear and call for you my dear.
Out across the briny deep a tempest cries beware.
The entry hall is full of garland, pine, spruce and mistletoe
The mirrors are all draped with ribbons, the brass all aglow
I hold the conch shell to me ear and stare out at the snow
remembering our last parting, I begged you not to go.
"Captain" said I "can you not see you take my heart from me?"
In his hand I placed a lock of hair, and a mustard seed.
He handed me a pearly conch shell from the Isle of Capri,
and bid me listen for his love song from the Southern Sea.
For twelve days, I've climbed stairs to the widows walk on high,
I clasp the token to my chest and search the sea near-by
So sad, yet sweet the mermaids sang, they of sailor's gone by.
They sang in sympathy, a song of longing with breathy sighs.
The cliff fires burn so bright now, he's coming on the tide.
The church bells are ringing now, soon they'll at anchor lie.
Had he heard me, had he called, had it been a dream I scryed?
T'was Christmas Eve and in the snow, he's landing with the tide.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
Got kidnaped from my African village,
tossed on a big, long ship that sailed far away
Stripped of every decent human privilege,
forced to work on short sleep, long hours, no pay
Didn’t come to America on a pleasure cruise,
land of freedom wasn’t nothing but fake news
Forced to work on short sleep, long hours, no pay
Looks like to me, everyday is hard Labor Day
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017
Christmas shopping I will go
Red kettles at department stores
Sidewalks covered in snow
Bell-ringers spreading Christmas joy
Volunteers bring Christmas cheers
Give a dollar or two or more
For the needy the bells ring clear
Red kettles need to be filled
Goodwill is in the air
Giving donations is what it's about
For those in despair
It's the Christmas sharing and giving part
"Jingle Bells" for Kim's contest
Copyright © Connie Gildersleeve | Year Posted 2012
Hail beats against the window,
Wind howls on without remorse.
Do you hear what I hear?
Winter's voice is blithely hoarse.
Trees are glazed with icing snow,
Panes are veiled with frosted lace.
Do you see what I see?
Winter's face is full of grace.
Pine pours spice into the air,
Ginger floats in gentle wafts.
Do you smell what I smell?
Winter's perfume - fresh and soft.
The hearth is bright with fire.
The chilly night brews up a storm.
Do you feel what I feel?
My darling keeps me safe and warm.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012
"Twas The Night Before Christmas"
'twas the night before Christmas day
Angel voices rehearsing
sinners preparing brand new way
as "Good News" began dispersing.
blue indigo sky glowing starlight
to guide three wise men to new babe
by one brilliant star beaming so bright
welcome, Christ the King, who would save.
on a cold Christmas Eve of snow
shepherds adored in straw stable
His humble birth would greatness grow
the Word made flesh is no fable.
'twas the night before Christmas morn
peace on Earth good will to all
at midnight the Son of God born
Merry Christmas who follow His call.
*For Kim Merryman's Here We Go Caroling Contest.
Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012
Though Grandma was always wishin’,
this Christmas she made it come true.
Fixin’ a ride up on Blixen
and dressin ‘em both up in blue.
She wished for Dad to be happy
with a smile to fix up Mom’s fear,
and a tree…made up and snappy
with others in family near.
Jesus, she wished as our first thought,
as the Light we bring our this year,
to shine with the Love we’ve been taught.
Let Christmas, worldwide, be of Cheer.
Janet L Vick
Copyright © Janet Vick | Year Posted 2011
Many years ago as we've been told
Pilgrims landed on America shores
Remembered for their gifts of love
Shared with natives living there
Surviving those long winter months
Who would have thought
Their kindness would cross the seas
To our small Bahama Land!
We celebrate Thanksgiving
With turkey and pumpkin pie to!
It is a time to give God thanks
For richly blessing our Bahama Land!
The adoption of this tradition
Inspires us to reach out to those in need
And draw closer to our divine purpose
To be sincerely thankful for all God has done!
Copyright © Deborah Burrows | Year Posted 2011
Isn't it wonderful when a comment can make you smile
Especially about something you like so far from home
Isn't it wonderful that this comment can take you miles
This venturing adventure to allow ones heart to roam
Isn't it wonderful when a smile greets you in arrivals
Your name is called to you by someone you long to see
Isn't it wonderful that out there, there's romantic survival
Two souls drawn together, Church becomes their we
Isn't it wonderful when chatting histories of their pasts
Attracts them even closer allowing their hearts to touch
Isn't it wonderful that knowing their days are going to last
Sharing a closeness loving bond, in every day they clutch
Isn't it wonderful as I look back at the scenes I've shared
So memorable was this vacation that it's only just the start
Isn't it wonderful that through a comment loves declared
Two souls drawn together sharing each others hearts
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015
So long ago, you might recall,
when winter's shroud of dark would fall
each ritual eased the Celtic mind
to mark the sun's reversal trend
When winter's shroud of dark would fall
fresh woven wreaths adorned each door
A yule log burned, and it was clear
with smoke there rose a new frontier
Each ritual eased the Celtic mind
with many ways to celebrate
Pagans danced with woven crowns
Sun's ebbing presence dwindled down
To mark the sun's reversal trend
folks pressed red apples to the core
Then drank it spiced, to offer toasts
which we have done, forevermore
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
The time has come to string the lights and decorate the tree,
Fix-up the barn an' house a mite for all the folks to see,
Cause Christmas time's around the bend, an' Santa's underway
A-makin' toys for girls an' boys, an' gifts to fill his sleigh.
The widder Jones, from down the road, her cook-stove's bellerin' smoke,
She makes tamales ever year for passin' city-folk.
But through the year she cusses 'em for just a-passin' by,
An' raisin’ dust she’s gotta to sweep when that ol' road is dry.
The school put on their annual play and that turned into fun.
They cast my nephew as the babe; he played the Holy Son!
The Wise Men never had a chance. They got a real surprise,
When baby Jesus tossed his milk an' caught one in the eyes.
But ever year I'm still amazed by changes folks can make,
Like Mister Groves, a stubborn coot I'd often like to shake.
He turns a leaf at Christmas time, an' acts just like a saint,
He'll drive to town an' do for folks that's crippled, sick an' cain't.
On Christmas Day, the kids in town get stockings filled with loot.
For some it's still a mystery but it's that "stubborn coot".
I saw him late one Christmas Eve a-tendin' to the chore;
For ever kid, in ever house, he left one at the door.
It never snows on Christmas Day, it's mostly never missed.
No sleighs to ride or sleds to slide, the things could fill a list,
But there's no other place on Earth at any time of year
That holds a light to what we have, the people livin' here.
We've shared our lives an' memories, each dream, desire an' plan.
We've touched each other ever way that God designed for man.
With all their strengths and weaknesses, we love 'em still the same
When Christmas time's around the bend, an' times that have no name.
Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009
my saddest christmas ever
has'nt came to be
but in a very few days
it will happen to me
the presents i thought of
will never be bought
the gifts and decorations
have all come to naught
the love i wished to happen
won't happen this christmas day
because the one i loved the most
has sadly passed away
so i have yet to greive
on that wonderful occasion
no one will love me
with such dedication
my heart has need to give
that special kind of love
but with no one to give it to
my heart it seems stopped up
i can only imagin
the fun we would have shared
exchanging our silly presents
showing how much we cared
going out shopping
will be a lonely task
there won't be anyone there
for me to share romance
but still i'll spend this christmas
with her on my mind
i wish she were here
we would have had a good time
so this will surely be
my saddest christmas ever
will my saddness ever leave
my heart keeps saying never
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2010
A Christmas gown worn to delight.
Oh, how I must dress for romance!
My heart skips for his, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
One kiss then to his sleigh, he goes.
Oh, how I must dress for romance!
A plunging neckline might entice.
Soft candle glow and mistletoe
might slow his pace this whirlwind night.
My heart skips for his, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
His snow white beard tickles my cheek.
Anticipation weakens me.
A diamond ring waits ‘neath my tree!
One kiss and to his sleigh, he goes,
but New Year’s Day, I’ll make him mine.
I’ll wear a veil of red and white
and Christmas gown for his delight!
Written for Debbie's Shall We Retourne Contest, 11/16/15
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
I went to a monster party,
At Castle Frankenstein;
With lots of food and spirit,
The fun kicked off at nine!
Ol' Frankie did the robot,
I stepped to a jitterbug;
The floor began to quake,
We really cut the rug!
I moved on to a sexy witch,
We slid across the room;
I broke down in a two-step,
While dancing with her broom!
I was jammin' to the Charleston,
The Werewolf joined in too;
Igor failed to fight the beat,
He danced without a clue!
Dracula did the tango,
I boogied with the Bride;
The Mummy looked bewildered,
As we did the electric slide!
I tap danced on a table,
Three zombies did the same;
I stripped down to my boxers,
They shouted out my name!
Jekyll was rather classy,
Wielding his futile pride;
When the music struck within,
He turned to Mr. Hyde!
The chandelier was shaking,
Skeletons hit the floor;
I danced to a rumba,
The crowd was wanting more!
Everything was peachy,
Oh what a beautiful night;
Along came the Invisible Man,
And started an awful fight!
He squeezed the Bride's booty,
Other ladies felt the same;
And when the dust had settled,
Guess who took the blame?!
Off went the music,
So long to our fun;
I had no other option,
But to tuck my tail and run!
Those who partied with me,
Were raising such a chatter;
The crowd was crying out,
"Put his head on a platter!!"
I aroused the little lady,
To an ear-piercing scream;
Hallelujah for a nightmare,
It was just an awful dream!
Was it really just a dream?
A thought raced through my head;
"Honey, I have a question",
"Why's that witch hat on our bed?"
Copyright © Milton Toran | Year Posted 2014
How blessed I feel this Christmas Eve
beneath a moonlit winter sky
as lights ignite to mimic stars
while snowflakes melt into our skin.
Beneath a moonlit winter sky
where footprints vanish instantly
from pathways paved with silver snow,
the waning wind breathes quiet sighs.
As lights ignite to mimic stars
on trees that blend into the sky,
they cling with incandescent grace
to frosted branches cased in ice.
While snowflakes melt into our skin
and carols float upon the breeze,
our clouds of breath rise through the night
to coalesce with chimney smoke.
Written: November 5, 2015
For Debbie's "Shall We Retourne" Contest
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015
The air crackles with excitement
as young hearts fill with Christmas glee.
And as decorations are strung
icicles hang from eave and tree.
A small boy's not asked for a gift
how will Santa know what to bring?
And although he thought about it
he couldn't think of a thing.
On this Yuletide Holiday eve
he is playing out in the snow.
And as puffy flakes tumble down
a chilly wind begins to blow.
Through the storm he sees a shadow
a street waif with a runny nose.
And he’s wearing a pair of boots
with holes where you could see his toes.
Suddenly the boy had a thought
“lets trade I'll ask Santa for more.”
And exchanging boots he ran home
glad he had a gift to ask for.
In the morning the church bells rang
blessing the birth of our sweet Lord.
And under the tree stood those boots
somehow magically restored.
While putting on this modest gift
he felt a warm feeling inside.
For the true spirit of Christmas
had left his heart bursting with pride.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
To give thanks for a life given
May be all that we need today.
From bitter years born out of need
The U.S. has shown us the way.
May be all that we need today
Or is there something else we need?
Our pain gave us the will to live
How do we go to plant that seed?
From bitter years born out of need
Was planted a crop for harvest.
A crop that stood the test of time
Harvest was good...but the world's best.
The U.S. has shown us the way
Its spirit is what we should heed.
"Thanksgiving" is not far away
Thankful voices will sing God's creed.
written for Shall We Retourne Contest.
Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2015
Fearless flames licking the night
as the glow flickers fire in their eyes
ah the tales round campfires light
of Sasquatch shadows and cougars demise
When sleepily those embers to ash burn down
like marshmallows slipping to the ground
lanterns cast their final shadows
In exchange for adventures awaiting tomorrow
A final gaze at a zillion stars
shinning their sign of specked hope
for a soul to know peace is only so far
as blackened woods against constellations cloak
As I lay me down to sleep
not a care in the world can persuade me
to take for granted my humble retreat
safely bunked with my horses by the creek
Sunshine flashes her brilliant stare
like diamond wings playfully fluttering
over morning rivers greeted with prayer
while wee ones still in tents lay slumbering
Until the hunger fails to quit
resisting whiffs of luscious scent
hash-browns and bacon crisp...
with flapjacks bearing the final lament
Here they come sleepy and wistful
cocoa for the kido's hair in a muddle
and coffee for the men now donning stubble
the ones bearing tissue and the O'l faithful shovel
The slightest breeze sweet smell of earth
shooting, hiking, splitting wood
traditions passed down again to preserve
laughter in a still frame subtly procured
Camping is the life, simple yet rich
meadows of wildflowers by the lake
kayak drifts near wild lavender I pick
with a wave saying thanks to the boaters wake :-(
Of all the trips money can buy
exotic lands, places to fly...
there's no place better to spend a summer
then camping where the wonder comes uncovered
Copyright © Sarai Virden | Year Posted 2014
Hurriedly through the night it came
Blanketing the ground in white
A storm of raging wind and snow
Late one Christmas Eve night
It came to us with little warning
A blizzard of blinding white
While families bowed their heads
Giving thanks for the birth of Christ
The winds did howl like a wolf
And snow drifts halted travel
The dark night was black as pitch
Emergency crews were frazzled
Then as the night gave way to dawn
They found the silver lining
Families snowed in for Christmas
Seemed winter had perfect timing
Copyright © 2010 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
Copyright © Lena Townsend | Year Posted 2010
Think of candy canes and the reindeer reins,
last year’s broken trains, miles of paper chains.
Questions that remain, still in Santa's sleigh.
These will explain - a winter holiday.
Latest giving trend, dress I had to mend.
Tummys that distend, the need to pretend.
Money that we spend, the best cabernet.
These will defend - a winter holiday.
Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2012
Recalling special holidays past,
my favorite thoughts would be,
three pairs of feet running down the hall
to wake up the Christmas tree.
The excitement and the chaos,
as wrapping paper was torn,
squeals of delight throughout the house
as Christmas day was born.
At times I thought it might be nice,
to be free of all the riot,
just to enjoy an hour or two
with things a bit more quiet.
It’s funny what you wish for,
sometimes regretting what you say,
changes that look better
often don’t turn out that way.
Children grow and then they’re gone,
now that my time’s more free,
I realize hearing those little feet
meant everything to me.
So this year as we celebrate
And raise a glass of cheer
my grandchildren run through the house,
I’ve got new little feet to hear.
They are the magic that is Christmas,
so bring on the noise and clatter,
for being together with those you love
is all that will ever matter.
Children in rhyme contest
Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2012
Walking down to cemetery
with their pretty chrysanthemums,
the people talk their way to graves.
They hang out, if they want, all day.
With their pretty chrysanthemums,
they do make a pleasant picture -
one for Selfies if they have brought
cell phones up to cemetery.
The people talk their way to graves,
but they don't have to be sad words.
A jolly time - convivial -
cemetery jaunt, if you will.
They hang out, if they want, all day,
and headstones will be polished clear.
Lovely backdrop for the flowers!
(My small survey of All Saints' Day.)
Contest - Shall We Retourne
Sponsor - Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015
It's the night before Christmas,
And I and the cat,
Patrol the house,
In search of that,
Which could cause harm,
To kith or kin,
Though the job is mine,
The cat is my friend,
So he comes along,
To help where he can,
And we have devised,
A workable plan.
He'll give the call,
If he sees something strange,
And I'll come a-runnin',
That's what we've arranged.
The war cry he gives,
Is a terrible screech,
And I have to admit,
It gives me the creeps.
One night 'bout this time,
A few years ago,
We thought we heard something,
Outside in the snow.
The cat crept up,
To the window sill,
And he gave a cry,
That was eerie and shrill.
The folks were all gone.
They were at church,
And up on the roof,
Came a clatter and lurch;
Then some strange old man,
In a funny red suit,
Came down the chimney,
With a sack filled with loot.
I was on the attack.
None of our stuff,
Would he put in that sack.
Back up the chimney,
He flew in disgrace,
And reindeer were running,
All over the place.
They took off like a rocket,
Swooped low and then high.
I swear that I never,
Knew reindeer could fly.
Some poor old lady,
Was out in the street,
Never knew what hit her,
It was reindeer feet.
Her husband stood staring,
In total dismay,
And they sing about her,
To this very day;
How on her way home,
From the church which was near,
Grandma got run over,
By eight reindeer.
It's the night before Christmas,
And I and the cat,
Are on the alert,
But he won't be back.
(Grandma got run over by a reindeer,
(walking home from church on Christmas Eve,
(Ohhhh you can say you don't believe in Santa,
(but as for me and Grandpa --- WE BELIEVE!)
(Now you know the whole story)
For Last Fifty Poems Contest by Brian Strand
For DejaVu Christmas contest by Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011
With Christmas carols softly playing
By the fireplace we sing along
And snow flakes in the cold wind swirling
While winter sings its' chilly song
The scenery turns to a blanket of white
As St. Nick rides by on his sleigh
And children behaving just right
In hopes he comes their way
People filling up on eggnog
And kids in the snow at play
And the flames of the crackling logs
Warm the heart on the eve of Christmas day
Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2012
It has been many years since his daughter was lost
If he could bring her back he would at all costs
Ever since that day he has wandered and roamed
Turned his back on his family and their loving home
His life on the road left him disheveled and broke
When he thinks back to the past it leaves him in choke
Another day on his lonesome travels
A stranger he meets and their discussions unravel
This old man he has met all mysterious and dark
Told him of times going back as far as the Ark
Tales of the Templar's and Merlin the Magician
After hearing the mans story he began to begin
"I lost my daughter a number of years ago
She drowned whilst on holiday under a still water flow
I couldn't comprehend the loss of her life
The pressure of living, I left my home and my wife"
"What would you do if your girl could be returned
Have you ever wondered if fate could be unearned
If this was possible, would you offer your life
For your daughter to return to her mother your wife"
"Remember, many years have passed her death by
For her past to be relived, there is a reply
Knights of the ages will descend from their dark
They will then strike you down, as you begin your embark"
"My life I have not lived for many a year
For me to lose mine, I gladly volunteer
I will die happy for all eternity
Knowing my daughter will grow old, as it should be"
The old man chants a script of the past
Of an ancient time when fate was cast
The power of they to be able to reverse
To balance their return, they have to reimburse
"Midnight skies will turn to purple cobalt blues
Six Templar Knights will stand and surround you
At your request they will strike you down
On the sixth stroke, you will face your death gown"
"A light will appear of which you'll travel through
But before you do, a young girl runs to you
Your daughter, in pink and red will run from the light
She'll run through your soul, as your sleep starts tonight"
The old mysterious man continues on his way
As he passes a house on a hot Summers day
In the garden there sits, a daughter and mother
Discussing the loss of her father, as they begin to recover
She tells of the day whilst on holiday years ago
My husband your father, lost under a still water flow
As we comprehend the loss of his life
Leaving behind his daughter and wife
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010
Twas a few days before Christmas, shoppers
dazed and bewildered, wandered through the store
selecting groceries from off the shelves,
paying for purchases, minds are elsewhere.
In quick succession, three people stepped out
there in front of my cart - could not stop quick
so each was hit gently, not one was hurt
just dumbfounded why I ran into them!
Copyright © Carol Fillmore | Year Posted 2010
'Tis that time again to bedeck the tree with decorations!
Untangling the string of lights is one of my annual frustrations!
Naughty words are said but when all is said and done, you'll,
Happily declare that sans a Christmas tree it wouldn't be a Yule!
Placed No. 9 in Kim Merryman's "Here We Go A Caroling" Contest - January 2013
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2012