Not Too Late

From Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol

Not Too Late

This time of year
the darkest of days
memories and dreams
times of contemplation
not too late
meanings
look back look ahead

like
Ebenezer Scrooge who glimpses
ghosts of
Christmas past present future
reflects on his life
and

makes changes
not too late
because
today can transform future
and today is all
we are ever given

so while there is time
and while I still breathe
there is now and
I can act and hope
it is not too late
to make a difference.

This is shared with the last dVerse Open Link of the year & also the last Poets United Poetry Pantry of the year.

Christmas Joy

Christmas Joy

Oh come all ye faithful

christmas is here

joy to the world

the lord is come

away in the manger

jesus is born

in a stable today

holy holy holy

on christmas eve

god is love

this silent night

signs from above

hark the herald angels sing

a great and mighty wonder

deck the halls

for jesus is born

on christmas eve

joy to the world.

This is written using the names of many Christmas hymns for Susan's "music" challenge at Poets United Midweek Motif.  This is a most musical time of year.

Joy

Joy

Look at the faces of children
smiling this time of year
and you will see joy.

Smell the Christmas cookies
baked this time of year
how can anyone not smile?

Taste the holiday eggnog
only this time of year
and you will be rewarded.

Hear the jingle bells
ring on Santa's sleigh
and isn't that Rudolph?

Think of the birth of the babe
celebrated this time of year
and this is true  joy.

This is written for Poetry Jam, where the prompt is to write a poem of joy.

Fresh Bread

Fresh Bread

Freshly baked bread 

delights the palate

warms the heart

lifts the spirit

one bite at a time

a reminder that

someone cares.

In baking is joy

a gift given

a gift received

a gift savored

simple meaningful

unmistakeable

love.

This is written for dVerse Poetics, where Grace's prompt is "Bread."

Midnight Meeting

Midnight Meeting

Yesterday I met Cinderella
she sat beside me on the train
that led from there to here
but not too far from nowhere

She was wearing a lovely ball gown
& both glass slippers on her feet
but her hair was tangled
and her body smelled of sweat.

I heard her slur into her smartphone
"I'm sorry I'm late, you see I met a man
who had the most wonderful long nose
but I will be home soon."

You see Cinderella hadn't married
the boring Prince Charming after all, but
Godmother let her keep the gown and shoes
to wear when she escaped hearth for town.

And right before Cinderella left the train
she turned to me, looking a bit sad, and said
"You know I could've fallen for that guy....
I loved his nose, but how he stank of bourbon!"

This writing (ha, I won't call it a poem) is in response to Bjorn Rudberg's  Midnight Woodwork, which he wrote in response to Claudia's prompt over at dVerse MTB.   I doubt it will make much sense unless you read Bjorn's.  Smiles.  If you haven't read his, start there.

The Quiet

The Quiet

The quiet of falling snow
on a solemn winter night

The quiet after an argument
when no one admits wrong

The quiet in a hospice room
when death is at the door

The quiet of a family
gathered around a Christmas tree

The quiet of young lovers
walking hand in hand

The quiet of loneliness
Stillness the only sound

The quiet of a dreamer
finding meaning in the moon

The quiet in a graveyard
the memorial stones do not speak

The quiet in a country church
candles lit for Christmas Eve

The quiet of life and death
when all we can do is listen.

This poem is written for Poetry Jam, where the prompt this week is "Quiet."  Also shared with Poetry Pantry!

Chicago at Christmas

One of Macy's (formerly Marshall Fields) Holiday Store Windows

Chicago at Christmas

Wind howls

crowds hustle

peer at decorated windows

return to childhood

escape the cares of today

then walk by Tiffany's 

to dream dream dream

what one could buy

if only......

if only one could climb the Willis Tower

imagine the view if you were Superman
and could fly

if only there was a mink to wear

to proudly strut the Magnificent Mile

to Water Tower Place and its glitz

if only Giordano's pizza wasn't fattening

if only the Chicago Fire hadn't happened

but then there would be no Field Museum

or Chicago Museum of Art

there are trade-offs in life
out of something bad comes good
one can't go back in time
while riding the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier

take the John Hancock elevator
up up up 95 floors 

eat overlooking the Windy City

remember the dress code

but savor the beautiful view
Chicago at Christmas.

This poem is written for dVerse Poetics where the prompt this week is "City Song."  Write a city poem, and join us.

Very large Chicago Christmas Tree 

View of Chicago from 95th floor of John Hancock Building

Preparation

Preparation

Today we light the second Advent candle
as we wait for His miraculous birth.

Seems so long ago this happened
that the message often gets lost
as we buy elaborate presents
to put under our decorated trees.

When we bake cookies for holiday parties.
preparation is far from our minds;
instead we worry about cards unwritten
or what to have for the holiday meal.

Today we light the second Advent candle
and I hope and pray my heart will prepare.


This poem is for Poets United Poetry Pantry.

The second Advent candle is the 'candle of preparation,'
I want to concentrate this coming week on 'readiness.'
It is so easy to forget about important things.

The Day That Lives in Infamy

The Arizona Memorial - Oahu

The Day That Lives in Infamy

December 7, 1941
the day that lives in infamy
20 American naval vessels destroyed

200 American airplanes destroyed
2000 soldiers and sailors killed
and another 1000 wounded

Though World War II had gone on
for two years before Pearl Harbor
America had not joined the war

But now 'the sleeping giant' was awakened
and there was no going back
and the US fought on until 1945

I've been at Pearl Harbor three times
I have visited the Arizona Memorial
And all is silent...lest we forget.

Some of those who died on the Arizona

The American flag flies on the Arizona Memorial

This poem is written for Poets' United Midweek Motif where Susan prompts us, among other things, to consider 'the date that will live in infamy.'   I write this poem......lest we forget.

Hand

Hand

She held his hand so tight that night
did not know it was the final time.

She waved from the window as he left
did not know it would be her last view.

She wrote him a love letter with her hand
did not know it would not reach him.

She wished she had not withdrawn her hand
but never thought he would leave that day.

She wiped her eyes with her shaking hand
wondered how she'd live without him.

This poem is written for Poetry Jam where the prompt is hands.

Win or Lose

Win or Lose

Who wins and who loses
depends on who keeps score
depends on what's at stake
depends on who's playing
and how much we care.

Some think winning is everything
but I wonder oftentimes
just why do we keep track
and why can't we all win
each of us  in our own way?

I've always disliked competitions
would rather withdraw from the game
but life often doesn't allow us
to leave a game before the clock
finally runs out of  time.

Who wins and who loses
and is there ever a tie
what's life about anyway
and who keeps the score
do we ever wonder why?

This poem is written for Tuesday's dVerse Poetics
where the prompt is 'winners' or 'losers' or 'winners
and losers.'