Category Archives: Poems

Merry Christmas

Christmas Love

Ah this morning with smiles bright
The tree and gifts arranged just right
With child-like joy our hearts leap
As we brush aside our morning sleep
To find our way around the tree
Somewhat shy about what we’ll see
And hug and hold greetings as we hum
Christmas songs as if we were alum
Of another time and place in our minds
For the child within us, remembers those rhymes
And after all isn’t that what it’s all about
Regardless the gifts we shall gush about
So that our appreciation is shown
And our love for each other known
For the gift is not the present
It is all the love they represent

A Collection of Christmas Poems…

Christmas Imagined

It is the spirit, it is love and care
That joy of Christmas we can share

For a moment a world perfect
Free from discord and defect

Placed in winter clarity of white
Snow as a blanket of beauty right

Colored lights, gifts, decorations red and green
Borrowed from ancients, this spirit of evergreen

A perfect setting for redeeming ourselves
For believing in each other and Santa’s elves

For knowing Angel’s get their wings
When hearts sing and the bell rings

And a child’s birth allows the world to cope
As the child in us smiles with wonder and hope

Everyone regardless of their belief can openly share
Our Christmas miracle, by opening hearts of loving care


Christmas Throughout the Year

I know a happy soul that always whistles a Christmas tune
He whistles just as happily regardless if its December or June

For him Christmas joy is not for a certain time of year
Rather it is an everyday spirit through his whistle we hear

If only Christmas was all the time
Then love and peace would forever shine

It’s not the decorations, the presents under the tree
But our time with friends and family we love to see

If only Christmas was all throughout the year
Then children would never know a single tear

It’s not the stores, the elves and Santa we need
We need the joy and spirit of God’s grace indeed

If only Christmas’ perfect meaning was clear
In our hearts, it must live throughout the year

And if you get a chance, especially in June
I hope you’ll whistle your own joyous Christmas tune!


Christmas Over the Years

Excited I stand there at seven
Tree, lights, toys, it must be heaven

Smiles of wonderment and joy
Anxious to play with a new toy

Soon it’s Christmas morning again
Anxious at twenty-five this man

Will the girls enjoy and be pleased?
Will my wife’s gift be well received?

Waffle maker surprise was not a hit
But the girls brought out smiles, every bit

Then soon its grand-babies Christmas time
Happy faces and smiles, I love this time

I’ll make breakfast and smile, knowing
At fifty-five my gifts are no longer blowing

And Grandma makes sure all is joyous and fine
Maybe, just maybe I’ll make waffles this time!


Christmas Morning

Christmas morning quiet and slow
The clock ticks softly on the mantel
Santa’s work in stockings hang just below

In this hour of quiet solitude of thought
About meanings of His promised peace
So more important than gifts we bought

In a world of turmoil, strife and pain
He was born to bring us joy and peace
It’s time we seek His miracle once again

Be like children in heart, faith and yearn
He taught with a smile not so long ago
See in children’s smiles today and let us learn

I hope to be like a child and see
A world with faith in message of peace
And know how beautiful this world can be


Christmas Beautiful

Christmas tree is up, decorated sparkle and bright
It cops a lean to the left, but shh it’s still beautiful

Decorations everywhere red, green and bright
The third light from left is out, shh it’s still beautiful

Its just turning dark outside, lights timed for night bright
Porch timer ugh, let’s synchronize our times for beautiful

Ready for church dressed nice, everyone looks so right
My tie is not great, but I’ll fix it late, so I too seem beautiful

Presents and gifts, wrapping paper and bows make season bright
Now a mess of paper, boxes, children and child-like smiling faces beautiful

Dinner finally served, everyone helped to make this spread so right
All in joy and happiness, a toast or two or three, and all is beautiful

Evening, quiet seasons music, another toast under tree alight
It leans a little left, and so do I, as we match its Christmas beautiful


From Christmas Eve 1822… a wonderful poem

A Visit from St. Nicholas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

How Much Energy Does it Take to Be Normal?

 

Being Normal

All the boxes assiduously receive their check
The cards have been accounted as in the deck
And the rungs have been climbed without a skip
While expending great energy to keep a tight grip
For fear of failure, fear of a stumble and fall
As well as exposure of philosopher and poet’s call
To explore and dream in color and hues at night
To experience dreams of free soaring and flight
Then to awake and calmly check the next box
As normal, never acknowledging that missing sock
That may be driving us crazy deep inside
But we are normal, sort of, on the outside

Now for This Commercial Break..

This week I learned that
Despite recording technology
Despite remote control at our fingertips
Despite the mute button so prevalent
Despite narrowed attention spans
Despite a paucity of curiosity
Despite the Super Bowl is two months away
Despite the proximity of the kitchen
Or maybe because of this proximity
People actually watch commercials
At least enough to get riled up
About a thin woman
…. on a $2,000 stationary bike!
Funny

What Does it All Mean?

 

No News

Why am I obsessed with the news?
There is nothing good here and very little new
On the front pages, or with these talking heads
And if I read the feel-good news stories
I sigh, because these puppy stories don’t work for me.

Bring me thoughtful prose and in-depth analysis
Of the human condition, and our vessel’s survival
Despite the human condition, of our universe still
Turning toward and out and about without
Our involvement, or more precisely our interference.

Bring me something that is unique and new
Something that is from the soul
That says we have a history and more importantly
A future!

Is it too much to ask, that we should understand
How this all came about, and what it all means?

 

An Altered Reality Exists…

 

Altered Reality

What’s good is bad… what’s bad is good
He cannot remember what was said, but should
Also, for that matter where Colorado is, nor
That Category 5 Hurricanes are a thing
The art of the deal that is never not win-win
But rather benefits only one,
Except it does not do that either in the long-run.

So, let us alter reality to fit the insistence
Of those that are desperate to believe.
As ignorance contrary to some’s definition
Is really knowing truth,
… but still denying its existence

 

The Heavens Entertain Us and Inspire with Beauty (two posts today) …

November Moon

The morning November moon, I love so much, showed itself.
About this time of the year, we are privileged to be smiled upon
By a barely-there moon, as it hangs on to the night, while greeting a new day.

 

Sunset Artistry

Light scattered red by dust
Glowing orange just for us
As it travels through so many miles
Of atmosphere distortions for smiles
On faces radiant in sunsets glow
As the heavens shine on us below
With colors beyond compare
Brilliant views, we proudly share
As photos or artistic views, if we dare.
If words could only capture the spectacular rays
Of sunburst, bold colors as the end of lovely days
Then poetry would shine as art on us
Colorful as the so many ways that dust
And words deflect light to produce rhymes
Echoing all the sunsets, forever from ancient times

The Cold Wind’s Asking…

 

The Cold Wind’s Asking

What if there’s nothing left to discover
And we have lost what it means to wonder
If all that we ever knew was what we would know
And there are no questions in our minds to show
What we should think of or strive for just when
It’s time to consider the meaning of life again
Before it slides back into oblivion’s darkness
Because we didn’t credit wisdom’s starkness
When we have become lazy of thought
Having forgotten all we’ve been taught
As we sit facing the cold wind’s tasking
Question… Of my source you could be asking?

After Dinner Conversation…

 

After Dinner Conversation

She says… what does that word mean
I say, deduce from context, and likely source of the word
She complains, that I use words that need explanation
But then I have high expectation that schools teach
Something about how to think, not just to remember
Of course, the conversation, then begins to meander
Across the dinner table of scraps and scrabble of a meal’s demise
And she now says with a twinkle in those oh so clever eyes
That she’d rather clean the kitchen than talk with me
She hates these conversations she tells me
While knowing this challenge will be rewarded, with kitchen
Duties as well as conversation that moves on to plans
For a future sure to be bright, but she wants to own it herself
Then she says she doesn’t want to play chess with me
I didn’t even ask…
Another challenge that means don’t try that four moves ahead crap
Cause, I’m not playing that game, because I cannot win
When we both know she’ll win just by playing the game
And I feel that through it all
… she’s already four moves ahead of me!

Time for Renewal…

Beginning of Renewal

Fall is a disturbance of great importance
We think of spring as renewal and rebirth
The excitement of new year full of hope
But no renewal happens without the glaring
Bareness following the colorful death, and
The clearing of the old from the carpet of earth
The starkness of branches forlornly reaching for the sky
As if beseeching the heavens for relief from exposure
And the nakedness against the winds that strip
The last color of who we pretended to be
As the leaves of October fall to the cold votes of November
As the time of renewal starts with the exposure
Of the old, the exhausted tired messaging
That no longer can hold back these winds of truth
Fiery red and orange fades to a brown death
Making room for something new, and hopefully better!