Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Winter |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)This Must Be a sign,lol! |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Why is blackfootlady out side my window,Lol!???? |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Why is blackfootlady out side my window,Lol!???? |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Most of us are facing hard times, in one way or another. |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)dano |
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Extension-Calling All Poets (24 hours left)We are working on the book tomorrow at this time. |
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RE: Extension-Calling All Poets (24 hours left)Quote: Originally Posted by WordSlinger We are working on the book tomorrow at this time. I will post when Im on. Dano is finished. Asha is healing but she has sent me what she has done so far. Asha and Paul have done a great job. The book really has appeal. I'll do what I do, I can it deflating air. So it's a tight. Then Maddi fine tunes it. Then sent back to Asha and Paul, for a final. After that it will be able for Santa. So post poems, 24 hours left. We would like to see other Poets in the book.  John and Maddi. I'm gonna try to get something done for you John I can't make any guarantees though |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)
Last edited by BadBadBear 12-14-2010 at 11:18:44 PM |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Icicle haven |
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Christmas MorningA.W. Nutter |
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RE: Extension-Calling All Poets (24 hours left)Quote: Originally Posted by WordSlinger We are working on the book tomorrow at this time. I will post when Im on. Dano is finished. Asha is healing but she has sent me what she has done so far. Asha and Paul have done a great job. The book really has appeal. I'll do what I do, I can it deflating air. So it's a tight. Then Maddi fine tunes it. Then sent back to Asha and Paul, for a final. After that it will be able for Santa. So post poems, 24 hours left. We would like to see other Poets in the book. John and Maddi. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Hey, Some good work being done on the Christmas book, John. Keep on paddling the canoe. Soon it will grow into a motor boat. Chao. |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote: Originally Posted by BadBadBear Christmas Eve Night Christmas week I moved into a bachelor pad near my hometown's billiard hall all other rooms were rented out to tiny, short guys .. elves, I believe furry, colorful cone shaped hats they wore I began to ponder whether someone had spiked my drink since I'd never seen so many short guys all in one place they were singing .. hummimg Christmas songs from times past when one of them called me to come into the kitchen a thick .. heavy sweet, familiar scent wafted in the air I noticed elves were baking what looked like walnut brownies I asked if I could have one yes, they sang in unison with their peculiar voices take two .. three all you want grinning .. one to another they shrieked with laughter their eyes .. a shiny gloss four large brownies were handed to me my friends Kilo and Frenchman asked could they have some too before they'd finished asking they had four apiece too breaking glass was heard over the elve's shrill singing peering down the hall many people were seen climbing through windows insane beating on the back door made the hair on the back of my neck, stand Frenchman, Kilo and I ran out the front door as fast as we could two blocks up the street ducked in an alleyway quickly gobbled up our goods we sat there for a while wondering why all the chaos had been happening back at my pad we laughed it off immediately upon standing all three of us fell hard to the ground if one were to have observed they'd seen .. nary a frown everything changed clouds became animals dancing in the sky earth .. shook beneath us whilst we tried to find our balance a red suit dressed .. fat, white haired .. bearded guy appeared out of thin air .. with twelve reindeer countless gift wrapped packages .. in his sled he handed me a special package for the elves called his reindeer names .. flew off in a flash Christmas Eve night Copyright © December 2010 BadBadBear %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% This is a delightful bit of fantasy to brighten kiddies' eyes, and give to adults a pleasant smile. |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)John is working on the pdf now, I am reserving my spot, I'll add it here tonight, when I save it to doc, and send it to Leroy and Asha. |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)meaning of christmas |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote: Originally Posted by REGINA2 meaning of christmas on christmas morning almost fell on the floor was still hung over from the night before didn’t pay my bills because mommy had to be santa claus the look in my son’s face made it all worthwhile as he sat under the tree opening his few gifts he looked up and smiled the true meaning of christmas I learned from my child Copyright December 2010 Regina DeMaggio %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% Yeah, Honey, Adults do learn a lot from kids..................That's no foolin',,,,,,,,,, 
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RE: Christmas MorningQuote: Originally Posted by Rhymer A.W. Nutter Close your eyes little one go to sleep Santa mustn’t hear the slightest peep His sack is loaded with wonderful toys For all the good little girls and boys He’ll know, if you are pretending to rest Try to fool Santa and you’ll fail his test You’ll never catch the red suited Clause From his magical duties he’ll never pause When you awaken on this special morning To a Christmas tree gracefully adorning Brightly wrapped presents in all colors and sizes Delicately concealing their wonderful prizes Sleep now, pausing to remember the reason All races and religions can celebrate this season Of peace on earth and good will toward man Honoring the birth of a child in Bethlehem A. W. Nutter Permission to use for the toys's for tots book. ************************************************************************************************************ Hey this Christmas Rhyme is from a poet who obviously knows how to read and charm the minds of tots........................ 
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote: Originally Posted by ApaqRasgirl sent in by carynontherhine thanks so much.......love asha Christmas Morning The morning has finally come. I am only wishing for some. I run to her bed, my confident and nudge her, hurry its time and we know that we must be quiet even though we are thinking of the doll we saw just the other day. I do believe it was poor pitiful pearl which also with it came a bed. Walking on the ledge of the stairs would not be an easy task and thank goodness it was just this one time of the year, this risk must be be taken without thought and no time for fears. And as we creep our way down we can only hope our father would not be there with a frown. We venture to the room where all we could see was the window, the tree barely and toys piled high so high that all I could say to her was oh my! It was not time yet and I said nine and you said ten, now hurry for the stockings but all I could think of was the baby doll in her carriage and thinking I will call her Jen. Back to the stairs we go but just one more glance as to what was to come, now so happy because there was much more then just some. Now nestled in your bed, we could explore through the long socks that we kept reaching deeper till all of our trinkets were now exposed almost like the pedals of a rose. Pulled apart to reach the end. * Don't talk and do not step too loudly all will come to begin our Christmas day with the family. And now it is ten, daddy is calling us, its time to laugh, to sing, to scream. Daddy I love you, Mommy I love you and thank you for my beautiful things. I look over at you and we exchange glances, glad we were quiet as it is now time to let Christmas ring and you know later with the cousins we shall sing. For sisters we were and your voice was good but I always felt mine was divine. Just the other day you told me I had a lovely voice and so much better then hers. I could not believe it, she finally admitted I sung better then her! My sister, I love you too. Merry Christmas!! Christmas Morning The morning has finally come. I am only wishing for some. I run to her bed, my confident and nudge her, hurry its time and we know that we must be quiet even though we are thinking of the doll we saw just the other day. I do believe it was poor pitiful pearl which also with it came a bed. Walking on the ledge of the stairs would not be an easy task and thank goodness it was just this one time of the year, this risk must be be taken without thought and no time for fears. And as we creep our way down we can only hope our father would not be there with a frown. We venture to the room where all we could see was the window, the tree barely and toys piled high so high that all I could say to her was oh my! It was not time yet and I said nine and you said ten, now hurry for the stockings but all I could think of was the baby doll in her carriage and thinking I will call her Jen. Back to the stairs we go but just one more glance as to what was to come, now so happy because there was much more then just some. Now nestled in your bed, we could explore through the long socks that we kept reaching deeper till all of our trinkets were now exposed almost like the pedals of a rose. Pulled apart to reach the end. Don't talk and do not step too loudly all will come to begin our Christmas day with the family. And now it is ten, daddy is calling us, its time to laugh, to sing, to scream. Daddy I love you, Mommy I love you and thank you for my beautiful things. I look over at you and we exchange glances, glad we were quiet as it is now time to let Christmas ring and you know later with the cousins we shall sing. For sisters we were and your voice was good but I always felt mine was divine. Just the other day you told me I had a lovely voice and so much better then hers. I could not believe it, she finally admitted I sung better then her! My sister, I love you too. Merry Christmas!! ************************************************************************************************************ Asha, This your childhood story is so very vibrant , it excited even gray headed me..... This Christmas book? I gonna buy a copy for each of my "GRANS" and a copy for myself..............................[/b]
Last edited by cousinsoren 12-16-2010 at 12:11:58 PM |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)We may being solving a problem in America. Last edited by WordSlinger 12-16-2010 at 07:11:52 PM |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)
He is born sweet Jesus, laid in a feed-trough lowly, how come you done end up here in this place? you is the son of God almighty, last you ought not be found here in low disgrace. down here, ‘mongst the cattles, sheeps and donkeys, this ain’t no place to lay your royal head, sweet Jesus, baby boy born in a stable, with nothin’ here but straw to make your bed. the angels wing down low to sing to you, the stars shine mite a whiter light tonight, I hear tell of the wise mens comin’, too, they followin’ that star now shines so bright. so Jesus, why you come here anyway? you think in flesh you gonna’ make a dif’frence? ain’t no hope for us, we’re lost n' lonely peoples, and what you gonna’ do, deliver us? deliver us, like moses did his people? you gonna’ take us to some promised land? ah, Jesus, I lost my hope long time ago. I don’t know why, little one, I takes your hand and hold it sweet, might be cuz it’s same like mine. I count them ten, them tiny little fingers and Jesus Lord, it’s more than I can bear, your hand will feel life’s hurtin’ pain that lingers. sweet Jesus, you’ll grow to be a man someday. you’ll tell us how the Father’s love true meant to be and someday, Jesus, you’ll show us the way. In peace and light, baby boy, the King of Kings. Last edited by Aria 12-16-2010 at 11:49:39 PM |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote: Originally Posted by Aria
He is born sweet Jesus, laid in a feed-trough lowly, how come you done end up here in this place? you is the son of God almighty, last you ought not be found here in low disgrace. down here, ‘mongst the cattles, sheeps and donkeys, this ain’t no place to lay your royal head, sweet Jesus, baby boy born in a stable, with nothin’ here but straw to make your bed. the angels wing down low to sing to you, the stars shine mite a whiter light tonight, I hear tell of the wise mens comin’, too, they followin’ that star now shines so bright. so Jesus, why you come here anyway? you think in flesh you gonna’ make a dif’frence? ain’t no hope for us, we’re lost n' lonely peoples, and what you gonna’ do, deliver us? deliver us, like moses did his people? you gonna’ take us to some promised land? ah, Jesus, I lost my hope long time ago. I don’t know why, little one, I takes your hand and hold it sweet, might be cuz it’s same like mine. I count them ten, them tiny little fingers and Jesus Lord, it’s more than I can bear, your hand will feel life’s hurtin’ pain that lingers. sweet Jesus, you’ll grow to be a man someday. you’ll tell us how the Father’s love true meant to be and someday, Jesus, you’ll show us the way. In peace and light, baby boy, the King of Kings. 8******************************************************************************************************************** This poem is a sublime prayer, Asha. So simple, so fervent, so deeply touching and childlike in innocence. It surely touches and reverently plays on the "chords" of the heart, the message of hope eternal in the human breast.. The essence of beauty is simplicity. Last edited by cousinsoren 12-17-2010 at 06:19:56 AM |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote: Originally Posted by Aria
He is born sweet Jesus, laid in a feed-trough lowly, how come you done end up here in this place? you is the son of God almighty, last you ought not be found here in low disgrace. down here, ‘mongst the cattles, sheeps and donkeys, this ain’t no place to lay your royal head, sweet Jesus, baby boy born in a stable, with nothin’ here but straw to make your bed. the angels wing down low to sing to you, the stars shine mite a whiter light tonight, I hear tell of the wise mens comin’, too, they followin’ that star now shines so bright. so Jesus, why you come here anyway? you think in flesh you gonna’ make a dif’frence? ain’t no hope for us, we’re lost n' lonely peoples, and what you gonna’ do, deliver us? deliver us, like moses did his people? you gonna’ take us to some promised land? ah, Jesus, I lost my hope long time ago. I don’t know why, little one, I takes your hand and hold it sweet, might be cuz it’s same like mine. I count them ten, them tiny little fingers and Jesus Lord, it’s more than I can bear, your hand will feel life’s hurtin’ pain that lingers. sweet Jesus, you’ll grow to be a man someday. you’ll tell us how the Father’s love true meant to be and someday, Jesus, you’ll show us the way. In peace and light, baby boy, the King of Kings. 8******************************************************************************************************************** This poem is a sublime prayer, Asha. So simple, so fervent, so deeply touching and childlike in innocence. It surely touches and reverently plays on the "chords" of the heart, the message of hope eternal in the human breast.. |
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RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Where The Spirit Dwells |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote:
Originally Posted by Madelynn Where The Spirit Dwells I woke on the chilliest of a winter’s morn’- Collect’d my thoughts, as I set my cup of tea to seep & simmer, Looked on at my daily ledger; Why ‘tis the 25th of December, the day which marks the birth of our Lord! On such a day crowned with glory to adore brotherhood towards man, I regret to inform, that my holiday had been displaced. Where had the child that bid such chorus in me, escaped?- The child who once danced to the light of the trees, upon a charmed Christmas day? Ah!- The absence which hover’d within my gate, was due to a spirit, which had lost her way! Today shall be the day, I so proclaim a gift to oneself; and with that I set forth to find the spirit which I had misplaced… ~ I buttoned up my cloak, and wrapped my stow tight- Opened the latch-hook to my door to welcome winter, and find the image I still so fondly remembered. Past my postal port, on the road that leads to the trains, over the tracks, and down a well worn path, my intentions are to return to the grange. For ‘tis been ages since my steps had compassed this way, to my recollection ‘twas the land where I once skipped with laughter, and played. The grange was sternly silent- and the only company present was the characters posed within the black stilts of the trees, and a dozen dubious eyes speckling the brush, belonging to burrowed mountain bunnies. Altho’ the solitude held presence, a sound most surely could be heard; the echoing spin of ice-laden winds, and the carol of seasonal birds. All to my gaze beheld a blanket of heavenly white, except for the shadows which stretched to caress the snow with blue- and for a moment I could swear, I was followed to this pass, by the young child which I once knew! ~ I set my rhythm forward, each step creating a new stone, and my heart began to dance in a rapture of suspense, to the gay sound which plunged beneath my soles. The crunch underfoot almost squeaked- and a giggle suddenly imposed!- From where, or why this elation arose is not of matter, only the joy of remembrance of a Christmas that I once owned. -I must be close to finding that spirit of the past, for the world before me was now awoke to a tune, as if time itself, had reset a forgotten hourglass. The clue appeared quite suddenly, so suddenly in fact, I held my gasp! For perched above on a tree fringed with evergreen, a cardinal had crossed my path! I know upon first gaze ‘twas more than a painted sparrow, with a twig clasped between her beak; but truly a messenger placed here per my request, to redeem the ghost to which I seek, and the twig in actuality- was really a berried mistletoe wreath! I call out to the angel, carefully wording my inquire- ‘Excuse me, O’ fairest of raven’s rose heart, but if you could be so kind as to direct me to discover merriment upon her throne, I shall repay your efforts abundantly, with a smile of purest grace, to illuminate your flight back home.’ O’ how the branch she decorated bounced so, when she bound forth into that icy sky, that snow rained down from the bough in a veil of glistening white- gold upon the forest floor!- And I clamored quickly in pursuit, as so the angel of blushing hue should not elude, the resolution to my lore! Beauty then began to descend, as powdered whispers fell curiously from the holiday sky. Swirling like cotton clovers, skating within the winds’ playful tides. Yes, I was twirling about, allowing the etched tokens to melt kisses upon my cheeks- remembering timeless laughter; remembering the youth I so beseeched. For a moment I felt like a pawn captured, in this land where wonderment so lavishly flowed, that I had lost site of my winged- director, and the quest for which I homed. The falling wisps then fell faster to and fro’, and the wind began to swiftly swing! White was blinding my sights to push forward, and continue to search for the spirit which Christmas brings! I called out to the cardinal queen, and attempted to hurry my pace, but winter retained my efforts, as I fell to my knees, and began to pray- ‘Shall I surrender Father, to elude the daughter who hides? The daughter who courted you O’ Lord, the child I have buried inside. Will I ever find marriage with the spirit you so divinely chosen to accompany me?- Or shall I accept absence, and inherit understandings thro’ mans’ empty luxury?’ ~ With my fate accepted, I then rose, turning back to the path from which I came- when suddenly I heard the distant sound of bells toll most triumphant, calling out to me by name! The obligation I must follow became clear, as this journey to recover my spirit, I must complete. I dusted the winter off my cloak front, and continued my course of relief. The bells rang out louder with every step I placed, and the melody, a rhapsody of holiest earth-bound thunder! Atlast breathless, I had reached my searching place; an arbor birthing winter flowers, and an open vine clothed gate aflutter. A Christmas village lay within, just beyond my readied steps; complete with lanterns aflame, and swags on every post with decodant holly. Children ran amok on pearl painted cobblestone, and the air held the sweetest scent of freshly baked barley. For I was convinced that I had stumbled upon such a town built of fine treasure- to view such a land with ignorance of discourse, which harbors such hospitable gesture. Altho’ this resort embraced attentions to charm, my pursuit to locate my lost spirit remained un-claim. For ‘tis my belief that true joy is not only to dwell in such light; but to possess the wick which feeds the flame! On this note, my messenger reappeared- swooping down in a gracious trace. She circled my startled presence once, then landed on the most respectful of Christmas array! ‘Twas a tree of such majestic statue every branches flickered with tiny lantern stoves. Ribbons swayed within the breeze, laced with golden stitch, and beside every pinecone tower, was the companion of a rose! Beads made from most precious seeds, looped to cascade like rubies bathed in a fountain. Silver streams swept down in a mass of strings, as if bewitched upon this Christmas mountain! I approached the tree, unable to blink- struck by the view which astounded me- when from a fleeting glimpse of my eye, a childhood spirit flashed to the other side, of the most magnificent tree I have ever encountered! At that moment the cardinal took flight, after that spirit so free- following her to the other side! I hurried around to find what I so seeked, as to capture the ‘who’ or the ‘what’ in which I pined so painfully to still be. However, I searched high and low for the child I once owned, but on the other side stood only- the tree! ~ A rasping cough clattered, and I lent my ear in close. The choking decree seemed to be escaping from beneath, as I knelt down to find the host. There underneath, set against the tree, was a man keeping sheltered from the cold. I assumed he was a pauper without a home as he looked at me quite gray, and I proposed he had been struck ill with melancholy fate- on such a blessed day. His face was rugged and worn. His lips chapped and cracked, as he attempted to smile. I wondered of his past, I wondered of his spirit- child. Garments fell displaced on his arms covered with soot. No gloves covered his hands, and only one boot on his foot. Within his hand he clenched an old empty can- empty on Christmas day. A day where peace and giving are said to rule the land, and every miracle bid will find grace. I filled his cup to the brim with clanking riches, removed my mittens, and unwrapped my stow. I covered him gently to fight off the chill, for I am sure these are tidings he does not own. He braced my arm softly, and then began to speak- ‘My dear, today you are my Christmas angel bringing strength, to an old gentlman who has fallen weak. When I woke today, I thought m’dear, will Christmas remember me? Then like a spirit you appeared, with a smile so beautiful and free- you my angel have washed away my tears, and brought me such a gift of relief. Listen.- Can you hear the bells toll? Do you dance within the snow which paints the trees? Can you see the child of yesterdays wonder? Do you feel the moments of a lost breeze? Look deeper m’dear within this old mans’ eyes; past the hours which scorned, past the sands of theiving time. See not what is before you in flesh, but that which dwells within the bells forgotten chime.’ ~ I held his hand to me close, as I looked into his tear swept eyes, ‘twas that moment in which I realized- that I had found my Christmas ghost. For as I stared into his eyes, ’twas my own reflection I came to see, and that my lost spirit had come home, because when we give, ’tis only then- that we truly receive. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Your story is delightful, Lil' Sis. Did you read, Charles Dicken's "A Christmas Carol" in your early youth? Dickens was the greatest Christmas Story Teller,of al; times. You must have ! |
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RE: RE: Calling All Poets (Christmas Poems)Quote:
Originally Posted by Madelynn Where The Spirit Dwells I woke on the chilliest of a winter’s morn’- Collect’d my thoughts, as I set my cup of tea to seep & simmer, Looked on at my daily ledger; Why ‘tis the 25th of December, the day which marks the birth of our Lord! On such a day crowned with glory to adore brotherhood towards man, I regret to inform, that my holiday had been displaced. Where had the child that bid such chorus in me, escaped?- The child who once danced to the light of the trees, upon a charmed Christmas day? Ah!- The absence which hover’d within my gate, was due to a spirit, which had lost her way! Today shall be the day, I so proclaim a gift to oneself; and with that I set forth to find the spirit which I had misplaced… ~ I buttoned up my cloak, and wrapped my stow tight- Opened the latch-hook to my door to welcome winter, and find the image I still so fondly remembered. Past my postal port, on the road that leads to the trains, over the tracks, and down a well worn path, my intentions are to return to the grange. For ‘tis been ages since my steps had compassed this way, to my recollection ‘twas the land where I once skipped with laughter, and played. The grange was sternly silent- and the only company present was the characters posed within the black stilts of the trees, and a dozen dubious eyes speckling the brush, belonging to burrowed mountain bunnies. Altho’ the solitude held presence, a sound most surely could be heard; the echoing spin of ice-laden winds, and the carol of seasonal birds. All to my gaze beheld a blanket of heavenly white, except for the shadows which stretched to caress the snow with blue- and for a moment I could swear, I was followed to this pass, by the young child which I once knew! ~ I set my rhythm forward, each step creating a new stone, and my heart began to dance in a rapture of suspense, to the gay sound which plunged beneath my soles. The crunch underfoot almost squeaked- and a giggle suddenly imposed!- From where, or why this elation arose is not of matter, only the joy of remembrance of a Christmas that I once owned. -I must be close to finding that spirit of the past, for the world before me was now awoke to a tune, as if time itself, had reset a forgotten hourglass. The clue appeared quite suddenly, so suddenly in fact, I held my gasp! For perched above on a tree fringed with evergreen, a cardinal had crossed my path! I know upon first gaze ‘twas more than a painted sparrow, with a twig clasped between her beak; but truly a messenger placed here per my request, to redeem the ghost to which I seek, and the twig in actuality- was really a berried mistletoe wreath! I call out to the angel, carefully wording my inquire- ‘Excuse me, O’ fairest of raven’s rose heart, but if you could be so kind as to direct me to discover merriment upon her throne, I shall repay your efforts abundantly, with a smile of purest grace, to illuminate your flight back home.’ O’ how the branch she decorated bounced so, when she bound forth into that icy sky, that snow rained down from the bough in a veil of glistening white- gold upon the forest floor!- And I clamored quickly in pursuit, as so the angel of blushing hue should not elude, the resolution to my lore! Beauty then began to descend, as powdered whispers fell curiously from the holiday sky. Swirling like cotton clovers, skating within the winds’ playful tides. Yes, I was twirling about, allowing the etched tokens to melt kisses upon my cheeks- remembering timeless laughter; remembering the youth I so beseeched. For a moment I felt like a pawn captured, in this land where wonderment so lavishly flowed, that I had lost site of my winged- director, and the quest for which I homed. The falling wisps then fell faster to and fro’, and the wind began to swiftly swing! White was blinding my sights to push forward, and continue to search for the spirit which Christmas brings! I called out to the cardinal queen, and attempted to hurry my pace, but winter retained my efforts, as I fell to my knees, and began to pray- ‘Shall I surrender Father, to elude the daughter who hides? The daughter who courted you O’ Lord, the child I have buried inside. Will I ever find marriage with the spirit you so divinely chosen to accompany me?- Or shall I accept absence, and inherit understandings thro’ mans’ empty luxury?’ ~ With my fate accepted, I then rose, turning back to the path from which I came- when suddenly I heard the distant sound of bells toll most triumphant, calling out to me by name! The obligation I must follow became clear, as this journey to recover my spirit, I must complete. I dusted the winter off my cloak front, and continued my course of relief. The bells rang out louder with every step I placed, and the melody, a rhapsody of holiest earth-bound thunder! Atlast breathless, I had reached my searching place; an arbor birthing winter flowers, and an open vine clothed gate aflutter. A Christmas village lay within, just beyond my readied steps; complete with lanterns aflame, and swags on every post with decodant holly. Children ran amok on pearl painted cobblestone, and the air held the sweetest scent of freshly baked barley. For I was convinced that I had stumbled upon such a town built of fine treasure- to view such a land with ignorance of discourse, which harbors such hospitable gesture. Altho’ this resort embraced attentions to charm, my pursuit to locate my lost spirit remained un-claim. For ‘tis my belief that true joy is not only to dwell in such light; but to possess the wick which feeds the flame! On this note, my messenger reappeared- swooping down in a gracious trace. She circled my startled presence once, then landed on the most respectful of Christmas array! ‘Twas a tree of such majestic statue every branches flickered with tiny lantern stoves. Ribbons swayed within the breeze, laced with golden stitch, and beside every pinecone tower, was the companion of a rose! Beads made from most precious seeds, looped to cascade like rubies bathed in a fountain. Silver streams swept down in a mass of strings, as if bewitched upon this Christmas mountain! I approached the tree, unable to blink- struck by the view which astounded me- when from a fleeting glimpse of my eye, a childhood spirit flashed to the other side, of the most magnificent tree I have ever encountered! At that moment the cardinal took flight, after that spirit so free- following her to the other side! I hurried around to find what I so seeked, as to capture the ‘who’ or the ‘what’ in which I pined so painfully to still be. However, I searched high and low for the child I once owned, but on the other side stood only- the tree! ~ A rasping cough clattered, and I lent my ear in close. The choking decree seemed to be escaping from beneath, as I knelt down to find the host. There underneath, set against the tree, was a man keeping sheltered from the cold. I assumed he was a pauper without a home as he looked at me quite gray, and I proposed he had been struck ill with melancholy fate- on such a blessed day. His face was rugged and worn. His lips chapped and cracked, as he attempted to smile. I wondered of his past, I wondered of his spirit- child. Garments fell displaced on his arms covered with soot. No gloves covered his hands, and only one boot on his foot. Within his hand he clenched an old empty can- empty on Christmas day. A day where peace and giving are said to rule the land, and every miracle bid will find grace. I filled his cup to the brim with clanking riches, removed my mittens, and unwrapped my stow. I covered him gently to fight off the chill, for I am sure these are tidings he does not own. He braced my arm softly, and then began to speak- ‘My dear, today you are my Christmas angel bringing strength, to an old gentlman who has fallen weak. When I woke today, I thought m’dear, will Christmas remember me? Then like a spirit you appeared, with a smile so beautiful and free- you my angel have washed away my tears, and brought me such a gift of relief. Listen.- Can you hear the bells toll? Do you dance within the snow which paints the trees? Can you see the child of yesterdays wonder? Do you feel the moments of a lost breeze? Look deeper m’dear within this old mans’ eyes; past the hours which scorned, past the sands of theiving time. See not what is before you in flesh, but that which dwells within the bells forgotten chime.’ ~ I held his hand to me close, as I looked into his tear swept eyes, ‘twas that moment in which I realized- that I had found my Christmas ghost. For as I stared into his eyes, ’twas my own reflection I came to see, and that my lost spirit had come home, because when we give, ’tis only then- that we truly receive. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Your story is delightful, Lil' Sis. Did you read, Charles Dicken's "A Christmas Carol" in your early youth? Dickens was the greatest Christmas Story Teller,of al; times. You must have ! |
When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA