If this were my journal
I would write of sunshine and blue skies
Endless summer days without clouds or rain
I would write of a world
Where no one grows old or dies
Everyone dances with the stars
And laughs until the flowers sing
If this were my journal
I would write of eternal love
Hearts forever united
There would be only rainbows in my world
All peaceful and silent except for the birds.
Singing their halleluiahs to the Creator
If this were my journal I would write
Of the small house I built for my love
Surrounded by daffodils like a sea of bright yellow
This would be my safe haven
From a world I no longer understood
Variegated yarn slides
and loops through my digits,
shifts from sunset hues to earthen curlicues.
Tension knots the forward carried yarn
like tales of old
in a “Sock it to me!” movie.
Serpentine needles circular as the sylvan sunset
kiss to form dance to born,
hues of orange and puce
on daring pairs of
socks for winter clogs.
Variegated angora wool seams
loop over pointer and linger under
ring fingers caught on the calloused
edges of sorely worn flesh.
Colors dimming to shades of gray
softly singing cotton halleluiahs.
“Sock it to me!” in a Goldie Hawn dream.
Click click the tips kiss pointed tongues
of steel stealing over bamboo yarns…
of jungles and fierce tiger yellow
onward knit the form
of summers socks born.
poet: Debbie Guzzi
There is something about palm branches,
The halleluiahs and hoorays
That separate Palm Sunday
From the following dark days.
They came en masse to laud him
With fever running high
They turned away to save themselves
When danger edged too nigh.
Only a few would follow Him
As he walked towards his grave.
Only a few would honor Him
For coming to Earth to save.
Would you have been among the few
Who dared to call Him King?
Or among those who shouted crucify,
His unearned death to bring?
If I had lived in those days
And been blessed to see my Lord,
I pray I would have stayed with Him
And heard His final word.
“Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
By: Joyce Johnson 4/13/11
May the Arch-Angels , from CHRIST’S BIRTH, Sing Hymns and Halleluiahs
MAY YOUR GOD , YOUR Higher Power ,YOUR CHRIST, Bless YOU with
Prosperity
MAY YOUR Pens Write the Spirit of the season, YOUR CHRISTMAS cards be
Pleasin’
The POETRY YOU Write this season will become the Archives for Posterity.
TO all the POETS, Present and Past, I wish YOU, SEASONS GREETINGS.
TO my Family of POETRY SOUP POETS , each and everyone : “JOYEUS NOEL”
Thank-YOU for YOUR support this year, Thanks: with a very Merry Christmas
Cheer.
May YOUR hopes and dreams become reality. The NEW YEAR : be an
INSPIRATION.
May the Arch-Angels , from CHRIST’S BIRTH, Sing Hymns and Halleluiahs
MAY YOUR GOD , YOUR Higher Power ,YOUR CHRIST, Bless YOU with
Prosperity
MAY YOUR Pens Write the Spirit of the season, YOUR CHRISTMAS cards be
Pleasin’
The POETRY YOU Write this season will become the Archives for Posterity.
TO all the POETS, Present and Past, I wish YOU, SEASONS GREETINGS.
TO my Family of POETRY SOUP POETS , each and everyone : “JOYEUS NOEL”
Thank-YOU for YOUR support this year, Thanks: with a very Merry Christmas
Cheer.
May YOUR hopes and dreams become reality. The NEW YEAR : be an
INSPIRATION.
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