Old fashioned memories of Christmas eve
wrap up her heart with twinkling fairy-lights
Hot sugar-plum trickles its sweetness from Winters gone
Cold waltzing winds invite wild fire to warm the hallway
till the last ember from maple logs fades soft and slowly within her soul.
A cup of joy from season's song fills up each thought with yester's vision
when silver tinsel sparkled the night and voices hummed in graceful cheer.
When melting icicles glistened in his eyes as virgin snowflakes veiled her brown hair.
Incadescent hues in cobbled alleys welcome December
with blue spruce pine cones and wholly wreaths
Comforting scents of cedar wood and vigil lanterns
light up the Grotto and winding streets.
Another year,her eyes sat on a silent star which stands upon the verdant tree
Which knows a wish,which hears each sigh,yet fails to sprinkle serenity.
The perching robin has left its nest,leaving its scarlet upon her chest
Smouldering ash is what remains and lurking frost on window-panes.
Neath the lone mistletoe by candle bliss, Upon her brow His withered kiss.
"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy
leafless boughs;"
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Earth Rips different
Not like cloth
tearing, sharp, painful sounds
Thicker cloth nêe bursts
baritone harshness
Ripping from earth, done
solemnly, knowing greater
calamitous unearthing is
certain, feels like bursting
Buttons, brief Eyelash
Flash of shock, something
missing, phantom pain some
Describe
My drying herbs, roots and all
Gave up this way, by my hand
As the 70' Norway Spruce Pine
in front of 30 Rock NYC
Slowly weeps tears of sweet sap
Squeezed from constricting veins
Machines surprising vast
Vascular networks of life below
Ground
Forced abscission really
Slowly dying, withering, shackled
In stantions for all to admire in
Spectacled holiday lights
Politicians virtue-signal righteous
Uses for its sublimated limbs
Sticks of assorted stature for
Sordid assignments...
I'll spice my curries
with my hand-pulled
Herbs
November
2019
Old fashioned memories of Christmas eve
wrap up her heart with twinkling fairy-lights
Hot sugar-plum trickles its sweetness from Winters gone
Cold waltzing winds invite wild fire to warm the hallway
till the last ember from maple logs fades soft and slowly within her soul.
A cup of joy from season's song fills up each thought with yester's vision
when silver tinsel sparkled the night and voices hummed in graceful cheer.
When melting icicles glistened in his eyes as virgin snowflakes veiled her brown hair.
Incadescent hues in cobbled alleys welcome December
with blue spruce pine cones and wholly wreaths
Comforting scents of cedar wood and vigil lanterns
light up the Grotto and winding streets.
Another year,her eyes sat on a silent star which stands upon the verdant tree
Which knows a wish,which hears each sigh,yet fails to sprinkle serenity.
The perching robin has left its nest,leaving its scarlet upon her chest
Smouldering ash is what remains and lurking frost on window-panes.
Neath the lone mistletoe by candle bliss, Upon her brow His withered kiss.
For Mystic Rose's -The Heart of Christmas Contest.
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