New Year Triolet

New Year Triolet

So New Year's Eve is looming near

another year has bit the dust

so now it seems perfectly clear

there's nothing to be done but cheer

while watching Times Square's falling sphere

the ball falls slowly as it must

all drink champagne or maybe beer

and toast to future undiscussed.

Thus New Year's Day arrives again

the slate is clear of all mistakes

and cries of peace good will toward men

are heard in forest field and glen

and no one can remember when 

the year began with such large flakes

as  nature rings a strong amen

and dreams float atop translucent lakes.

New Year

New Year

No, I don't make resolutions any more;
I always break them anyway.
No reason to set myself up
for disappointment, self hatred,
condemnation, failure
or to point an accusatory finger
at myself for what I could not do
what I did not overcome or achieve.


No, I don't make resolutions anymore;
instead I think about intention
even much more than half heartedly.
I know what I endeavor may fall short
but that with intention I will move
in the right direction, and though
I may not  achieve total success
it will be all right in my own eyes.

Choice of words makes all the difference!

This is written for Sunday's Poetry Pantry.

Time

Time

When I was a child

waiting for something special

I wanted to happen

time passed especially slowly.

The day before my birthday

crawled by haltingly

and when I lay in bed

on Christmas Eve it seemed

that Christmas morning 

would never come.

Now as an adult  I wonder

how I ever thought

time moved slowly.

This is written for G-Man's 55!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like.....

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

White gifts from heaven

manna in the wilderness

world blessed with white.

Snowflakes fall softly

beat of angel wings

trees laden with snow.

Reflections in darkness

stars shine above

one brighter than all.

Tree lights flicker 

candles radiate bright

flames leap and glow.

Season is passing

manger awaits birth

faith born anew.

I rest before the hearth

gaze into dancing flames

silence prevails inside and out.

But shhh do I hear bells

could it be a sleigh

do I see deer tracks in snow?

Wishing all my poet friends from around the world a very Merry Christmas!

The Same Old Story

The Same Old Story

This year again my heart and mind returns

to the simple story I read each year,

the story of the babe that never gets old.

Do I really know?

I reflect once more on Mary's childbirth pains

as she gives birth in a simple stable

and wonder her thoughts as she cradled her Child.

Did she really know?

I think of Joseph's kindness in a situation

that surely he did not fully comprehend

but for which he must have felt responsible.

Did he really know?

I contemplate the shepherds with their sheep

as they followed wherever the star led them

keeping eyes to the sky with trusting faith.

Did they really know?

I consider the wise men and their gifts

giving their blessings to the swaddled child

so humbled before their lowly little King.

Did they really know?

And I ponder still today as I reread the story

so old yet always new each Christmas Eve

if my life reflects who this Baby is to me.

Do I really know?

This is written for / submitted to Poets United Poetry Pantry!

The Perfect Gift

The Perfect Gift

I was Christmas shopping today,
trying to find the perfect gifts
(yet knowing there are no perfect gifts),
feeling under pressure
as I wandered through aisles
looking for what might not be needed
but what would be appreciated
and not returned (despite gift receipts).
Now gifts are wrapped and displayed;
I hope for the best.

This is written for G-Man's 55!  Go tell it to the G-Man!
Merry Christmas to all of you!

Wondering

Wondering

I don't know if it is preferable

to be outside looking in

or inside looking out

both lonely positions 

but not as lonely as

being trapped between the glass

unable to climb out

unable to climb in

unable even to scream!

This is written for the last Poetry Jam of 2013,
inside looking out; or outside looking in,
before a small break until January 7

Children at Christmas

Children at Christmas

There is nothing like
the sound of children's voices
singing of Christmas.

Though I believe as an adult
it is children singing
that point the way tonight.

God bless the children
and their simple faith
this season of the year.

It is the children who
every year lead me back
to the humble manger.

There is nothing like
an unquestioning faith
this time of year.

It is the children who
show me all I need
is uncomplicated faith.

I believe!

Saturday night I attended a church Christmas concert that awed me.
I think we can learn SO very much from the children.  I am sharing 
this with Poets United Poetry Pantry.

Year's End

Year's End

Another year has come to end
with peace on earth good will toward men
the candle has burned down again
to this year we say loud amen
before we into future wend
the candle has burned down again
and there is nothing to pretend.

The candle has burned down again
but  then a new one will be  lit
the future on horizon then 
the candle has burned down again
I do look forward, yield my pen
I'll write my poems I will admit
the candle has burned down again
but words of mine remain starlit.

This triolet is written for MY prompt at dVerse for Poetics on Saturday: 
Candles and Light and Winter Solstice.  I do hope I will see you there. The prompt goes live at 3 p.m. Eastern!

Christmas Tree

Christmas Tree

My 

Christmas 

tree went up 

today; it didn't go 

up last  year when I felt 

lazy, indifferent, dispirited, 

thought it didn't matter to me  

or anyone 

else and my grandchildren 

had their own tree at their own 

house;  but this year I decided I

would care anyway, and Christmas would be

special 

and very

 visible.

This is shared with G-Man's 55! 

If you Drive a John Deere

If You Drive a John Deere


We have bubblers here
you betcha we do,
and we drink pop too
though beer's the beverage
to drink with a brat
at the Frozen Tundra when
dressed in your blaze orange.

And everyone understands
when someone buys bakery
it's donuts not a building
you're getting, and it's
not uncommon for someone to
ask if you want to come with.

And people  might ask you
where-abouts you come from
and you might say up nort
but does it really matter
for cripes sake aina-hey
when you're doing fair-to-midlin.

And if you're pert-neer done
with a project you started
you might want to take a break
for a fish fry on Friday
before you go to Fleet Farm
where they gots lots of stuff,
believe you me, oh ya.

And there's nowhere better
to live than in this humdinger
state of  Wisconsin
where you can be proud
to be a cheesehead
any day of the week,
n-so, oh ya, uffda!

If you don't understand the above "English," you might want to consult the Chedderhead Dictionary.
This is written for Meeting the Bar, where Gay is having us write about what makes you and your language unique.

I Still Believe

I Still Believe

When I was a child I believed in fairy tales
and happily ever after and that the
cowboys with white hats always won.

When I was a child I believed good would triumph
hard work would always be rewarded
my parents would live forever.

When I was a child I believed in Santa Claus
and reindeer that flew through the sky
the Easter Bunny and tooth fairy too.

When I was a child I believed life was fair
that my friends would be friends forever
and never thought people had hidden agendas.

When I was a child I thought I could be
anything I wanted to be and I believed in Heaven.
As an adult I still believe............. in Heaven!

For Poetry Jam this week we are writing about Childhood Beliefs.

A Christmas Memory

A Christmas Memory

Silent Night played softly in the background

A child, I sat close to my mother on the sofa

in the living room, dark  except for illumination

of green and red lights on the Christmas tree.

We drank hot cider and watched reflections

from  headlights of passing cars

dance across the wall of the living room

and as they frolicked we counted them.

I asked my mother to tell me again

the stories from her childhood long ago

stories recounted innumerable times

but I never tired of her animated retelling.

She recalled for me the day she skipped

Sunday school, the time the boy

peed in her winter boot,  how her sister

and she washed dishes, couldn't stop laughing.

She told also of the Christmas a few years back

when I was only three years old and wanted

to say my own Christmas piece in church

though I was not old enough for the program.

It was cold outside, but I felt so very warm

sitting on the sofa in the dark with Mother,

sharing old stories, both hers and mine,

and I wanted those moments to last forever.

Shared for dVerse Open Link.

Mine

Mine

My words

my children

make me

smile

laugh

cry

learn

grow.

I accept them

love them

they are

imperfect

but mine.

Submitted for Poets United Poetry Pantry. Won't you join us on Sunday?

The Final Station

The Final Station

Little did I know when I watched my Lionel electric train 

travel  around the base of the Christmas tree when I was a child 

that it would transport me into the future, faster ever faster,

until the present day when I now look back and realize

that the distance traveled on the tracks behind me

is greater than the distance to be traveled ahead of me;

and I think about Advent and my own preparations

for His birth this year and wonder if I am ready

for the inevitable time the train will reach the final station.

This poem is written for dVerse Poetics, where one of Claudia's prompt ideas is "Advent."

Though the photo above was not a photo of my electric train, it seems to be a similar one.

Pain

Pain


The pain of
cracking head on the ice
stabbing pain in lower back
throbs of toothache or earache
pinching finger in car door
walking with blisters
indigestion or headache
sprained ankle or cortisone shot
do not hold a candle to the pain
caused by a disagreement
that cannot be settled
before one sleeps at night.

This "55" is written for dVerse Form for All  & also
for the G-Man!!

The Perfect Gift

The Perfect Gift

You ask me  what I want
     so I will simply say
I have received enough gifts
     to cover this and any holiday.

But there is one simple gift
     that would not cost a cent
the gift of an ordinary day
     would my happiness augment.

A day to rise so early that
   I'd see the rising sun and
moments to read a good book
   before the day was done.

A leisurely walk in the park
     a small dog by my side
coffee with a good friend
   in whom I could confide.

A letter from someone out of touch
   saying I remember you
a smile from a stranger that
   holds the door I walk through.

The joyful laugh of a child
   catching snowflakes on his tongue
a time to reminisce with one who
    remembered me when I was young.

You ask me  what I want
     so I will simply say
I have received enough gifts
     to cover this and any holiday.

This is written for Poetry Jam, where the prompt this week is 'gifts.'

December

December

December enters with stillness
snow falls silently
covers November brown.

Little girl stands in awe
snowflakes settle on her tongue
her eyes look up wanting more.

Winds blow strong some nights
shake the windows hard
dogs think there is an intruder.

The advent candles are lit
one candle at a time
reminding the world of hope.

The stars shine bright
light up the dark winter sky
I look for the special star.

The boy sits on Santa's lap
tugs at his shaggy beard
his last year to believe.

Carolers sing for shut-ins
O Holy Night
bear gifts of cookies.

The tree is decorated
stockings are hung and ready
home waits for the Day.

Past years are remembered
the times when there were
more at the table than now.

Fire in the fireplace

flames warm and dance

old stories are retold.

Laughter and good cheer

family and friends gather

the holiday is here.

December leaves with stillness

snow falls silently

bids the old year adieu.

This is shared with dVerse Open Link.