Christmas comes calling each year around,
Ringing in joy and celebrations profound
A message of sharing wrapped in delight.
Culminating the year in hopes soft light.
What does Christmas mean to me,
Opens a floodgate of memories.
The snowy beard, the bright red hat,
A jolly belly — imagine that!
From distant lands with mystic aura,
Santa arrives — every child’s euphoria.
Candied fruits,
Orange and cinnamon induced,
Plum cakes so rich,
Ginger and nutmeg enriched.
Pine, fir or spruce,
A woody aroma to boost,
Poinsettias add colour and glam,
Enhancing old terraces charm.
Wreaths and mistletoe on show,
Reindeer and Santa in tow.
Christmas stockings, filled and hung with care,
Unwrapping gifts, joy fills the air.
Candy canes and twinkling lights,
Together they usher in delight.
A time to care, a time to share,
To breathe to life each Christmas prayer.
To pen new tales of love and kindness,
And light the world through winter’s brightness.
Is knowing what's known
enough, or must you know it
beyond the pretense
to feelings and perception ~
with bright light glow in its shine
When I was a child
I like to go outside of the house
Because staying at home is boring
Growing up, I like to go back home
Because life outside is boring.
If I could go back the past
Once in my life
I would like to have
An innocent childhood life
Back then.
Imagine if a couplet traveled the world,
gaining an accent before moving on;
Repositioned from front to back twirled;
An old rhyme harnessed and hurled,
finding a backboard to bounce upon;
Imagine if a couplet traveled the world;
Tangled consonants mixed up and swirled,
still holding it down prose's guardian;
Repositioned from front to back twirled;
Keeping every dialect preserved,
poetry similar to an antique globe drawn;
Imagine if a couplet traveled the world;
A delicate font lands retro curled,
crown jewel of a poetic paragon;
Repositioned from front to back twirled;
The trajectory of a vowel furled,
so cultured this loquacious phenomenon;
Imagine if a couplet traveled the world,
repositioned from front to back twirled.
o temptation
ó glamor
enticement !
By God or
devil I beg;
proceed in peace
or Vade retro !!!
She can hear Elvis Presley in her earphones,
A gramophone is playing on the table
There's a Chelsea poster on the wall,
And the forgotten black phone rings.
He wore flared trousers and grew a mustache
His cassette player sings: "Mr. Sandman",
The floor clock in the apartment is ticking,
And the movie goes with Audrey Hepburn.
It is always tuned to its own wave,
And he's an avid Castaneda fan,
They will meet in tobacco captivity,
And there will be love in the retro style.
Their meeting is like a distortion,
As if time has gone backwards,
Love turned on the imagination
And connected the unusual again.
He rode up to her in a Deville,
She dressed like Marilyn Monroe
They spent everything they had saved,
They got married quietly in the office.
Blonde with peroxide in her pocket,
And the dude with the cigar in his hand,
Found each other in a retro fog,
And together we went on the road to the dream.
The fifties brought on dazzling star Lucille
Zany and bubbly she was ideal
O like no other sitcom
Pure entertainment for Mom
Laughing at each week's new crazy ordeal
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
With my stereo
I return to the sixties
Love was still in bloom
On my stereo
I return to the 1960's
Love can still conquer!
Our house was built in 'sixty-eight,
a long bi-level, brick, and white.
A retro queen I was those days,
and avocado made it right.
The kitchen was my favored place –
appliances in "sixties" green;
refrigerator, matching stove,
completed well that retro scene.
For many years they lasted well -
and replaced once; the find was tough!
But later on, my luck ran out –
no avocado kitchen stuff.
The second fridge broke down one day;
a new one had to come real fast.
A plain old white one took its place,
and I was left distressed, aghast!
My retro strove looked lonely, sad
without its avocado mate;
Its matching fridge, now she was gone –
he knew this soon would be his fate.
Oh, how I miss those retro days!
Appliance colors were such fun!
That avocado cherished green
refridge and stove, compared to none!
Now stainless, white, is where it's at –
appliances, their brilliance lack.
Perhaps the pendulum will swing –
bring retro avocado back!
September 11, 2015
“I’m not old – I’m retro”
Says the sign that looks antique.
I bought it ‘cause I liked
Its sassy message, tongue-in-cheek.
But really, who embraces old
Or elderly or aged?
Why, even senior can be wrong
When someone’s years are gauged.
So I will stick with retro
‘Cause it sounds so cool and hip.
Come join my Retro club –
It’s an exclusive membership!
A simpler time of simpler rhyme.
Filled with romance simply sublime.
An angels voice from yesteryear.
Sounds oh so nice in this boys ear.
A love of love for love's sweet sake.
And dream's for two a future make.
In today's world the past is pale.
So nice to hear love's not for sale.
Crackling and plinking mix so succinctly.
On a record recording done so distinctly.
An era gone by reminiced in the air.
So glad that they did so that we now can share.
It's funny to think of the people gone by.
It almost always brings a tear to my eye.
So to think that Dear Doris is still here today.
Give's promise that everyone will find their way.
For the sing to me contest/ Doris Day's Tea for Two
...."Coming *.* Soon." (*
A modern trimming,
Grin and bear it.
The slap of a buckle,
Reminiscent of the squeeze.
Laces bloodied,
From a prayer of acceptance.
Breathing is optional.
The shove to a corner,
Start early for pattern recognition,
Bind the idea prematurely.
Numbed pain,
Limited motion.
Embrace wind through the long locks,
It's only an illusion of progression.
I traveled back in flashes. . .
A rapid retrogression of life’s events,
backwards through this blare
into the depths of time. . .
arriving at that faraway and mystical
sphere of an untainted pre-existence,
the place I’d once believed all hearts
would yearn to be could they but see.
But seeing it again with educated eyes
that held my newer and terrestrial recollections,
I understood at last. . .
integrity is not an innocence,
progression is eternal,
and never can the past be resurrected.
4/30/2010
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