Long Carols Poems

The sun was rising high in the east over the town of Milton creek
It was the eighteenth day of December, the start of Christmas week
All the store fronts were decorated; it was a colourful sight...

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I don't see you.
I've been searching my whole life,
But still, I don't see you.

When I was a wee lad
I looked for you ...
My mother's smile,
My father's toil,
My brother's refuge,
My sister's amity ...
I didn't see you.

Thanksgiving,...

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St Anthony's orphanage was founded some thirty years ago
For homeless and orphaned children, by a priest Father Angelo
Every child was made welcome; race and religion mattered not
And every Christmas Father Angelo ensured presents they all...

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In the May-time of my life
time bloomed each day a prickly boll –
but I, like the softest cotton within such a sharp seed  
swaddled in the purity of security 
for what seemed like eternity...

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It was Christmas Eve, a Thursday
On the Northern Express Christmas Train
We were on our way north through the wilds
And our  destination was to be old Hornepayne

One hundred and eighty two people
Three kittens, one goat...

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A SONG AGO

Our cousin filled a flash drive with songs
From the Fifties to date,
I would like to share some, beginning with the late,
Mr. Frank Sinatra, Frankie boy,
Still my favourite, to listen to, such joy!
‘I did...

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Midterms are over and I killed ‘em (Yes, even physics) - yeah me! I spent the last two weeks like prisoners do, marking off days until - freedom. Now the pressure’s off and I can...

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Beneath the mantel's alabaster gleam
Where verdigris flames pirouette, in cerulean ballet's beam...
We gather close—a familial love—
In hallowed halls where chimes of crystal laughter, stream.
Amid the yuletide glow, memories take flight, a morning dove...

Cinnamon-kissed balsam and...

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In a hellish nightmare pit, soldiers stand...
Along the Western Front's cruel, jagged land,
Where blood and tears paint the earth's sad lore,
They mourn their fallen with bitter taste, hearts torn.

They heeded not the cries of pain,
Nor...

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HOMELESS POETRY

These are poems about the homeless and poems for the homeless.



Epitaph for a Homeless Child
by Michael R. Burch
		
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is...

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When nature wilts into 
                  a colorless haven, 
metaphors of death sprout 
     ...

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long before i met April
i was a poet true
i had a heart of love 
but no one to give it to
so i put my words on paper
posted them to the net
and got someones attention
that i...

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Dinner was over an hour ago
Counters wiped clean, dishes are washed and dried
I hold my glass up to the light like a color slide,
and see the world, warped, and blurred through the half glass of...

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I now walk with the young Emmanuel
In his gardens of trees and flowers
Out of the darkness of my lasting den
Where the two monsters kept me without end

In the house of horrors and orcs 
I felt...

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True Christmas Miracle  True Story  Full version written by Wendy Horder. 2022


Huddled in muddy trenches, the soldiers heard an eerie sound.
Troops were English, French & Belgians, and as they looked around,
The sound was...

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On the Twenty Fifth, December Night,
Black Skies Sparkle with  bright light!
Church Bells ring,Ding!Dong!Ding!
Chores of angels  ,start to sing!
Merry Christmas!Everyone!
Happy Birthday,Jesus Son.

We rejoice in prayer and joy,
as We thank this New Born Boy,
He is...

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A PROUD AMERICAN

I see the flag that’s flying high, I hear our anthem sung,
I see a soldier dressed so fine, I hear a bell that’s rung.
I hear applause and see them stand as a man...

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One December Night
     (Continuation to the End)
    
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.  
But month...

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Dinner was over an hour ago
Counters wiped clean, dishes are washed and dried
I hold my glass up to the light like a color slide,
   and see the world, warped, and blurred through the...

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The Gift of Christmas

Some people say Christmas in this present time
Wanders lost
Through flashing ads and tinsel carelessly strung
On an artificial bough.

Some people say the Spirit of Christmas
Lives no more -
The simple Christ Child’s birth
Coldly mocked...

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Here & there, everywhere 
lie pieces & parts of me
I exist only in the moments between what is and will be…

Taking a ride to the minimart... 
Enjoy the passing lands...
...watching the sun playing on the...

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Now Christmas in July seems crazy - I’m sure I hear you say
That has got to be plain silly - but this is the Aussie way
Christmas is in December you insist it’s a well-known fact
But...

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Transitions and Contrasts: Just like the Seasons
Scorching, sweltering, drying, draining
The Candle of the Sky, now a supernova
Chirping birds cry out for drops of draught,
The strays of streets too, dying or suffering.
The poor farmer’s heart, broken,
Like...

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Ethel Hurst

1889 – 1918

I saw the town rise up
Like a single blade of grass after a spring rain.
I played a multitude of hop-scotch games
With my best friend Hannah on Penn Street.
And sipped a hundred ice...

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Deck The Halls
  
                              ...

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