Christmas poems and memories

Hi everyone,

Today happens to be my 1,000th post since starting the blog in 2009. Thanks to one and all for being part of it.

Now it’s my pleasure to feature a Christmas poem by Joy Acey.

Happy Holiday

May this season bring your happiness and plenty of joy
With buckets of love and presents for each girl and boy.

May your cocoa have marshmallows to drink by the fire,
May you have all that you can desire.

May your tree be the tallest with flashing bright lights
And may your world be calm without any fights.

May the birds at your feeder find plenty of seed
And may you have everything that you might need.

May the soldiers working far off in war zones
Get the job done so they can come home.

Let the gas prices drop so you’ll drive your car
Or maybe the bus can take you far.

May scientists searching for a discovery
Find the clue for cancer recovery.

May they cure Alzheimer’s and other diseases,
May hospitals empty before it all freezes.

May children in Africa have the food that they need
And lots of clean water and books they can read.

May your stocks on the market increase in their worth
And may we all find peace on this earth.

May we all have jobs and significant work to do.
This is my Christmas wish for you.

by Joy Acey

*****

My thanks as well to Veda Boyd Jones for her Christmas memory, which I’m reposting here. Others who have added their talents are Jeanne Poland, Sarah Holbrook, Renee LaTulippe, Jane Heitman Healy, Julie Krantz, Cory Corrado, Steven Withrow, and Nancy Gow. For good measure I’ve included Mrs. Stanley’s Christmas, a story that I may have posted last year or the one before.

Whatever your faith or belief, I wish you well. May you be safe, healthy, and happy in the year to come.

David

*****

Our Talking Place

He was six when we sat close on the stairs together, I on the higher step, he on the lower.
“I don’t think there’s a Santa Claus. You and Dad are Santa.”
His voice didn’t ask a question. It did not accuse. It was a statement.
“You are partly right,” I said. “But you left out yourself.”
His eyebrows peaked, and his mouth raised higher on one side in that way of his.
“I believe in Santa,” I said. “Santa is the spirit of giving. And you are Santa, too.
How do you feel about that cup with Dad painted on the side? You had to get it.”
“He’ll use it every morning,” he said. “He’ll love it.”
“That is the spirit of giving…Santa.”
He smiled that self-satisfied smile of his and nodded wisely.
“Okay…Santa.”
“But we can’t call each other that around your little brother.”
Again he nodded as if we were high conspirators. “He’s too young to understand.”

by Veda Boyd Jones

*****

There’s a Glut

There’s a glut

Of Xmas stuff!

It struts

Jingles

Mingles

Tingles

Us to bits.

We’re saved by sleep

Quietly wait

To wake

To wonder

Child again.

by Jeanne Poland

*****

December comes.

I non-stop-shop.

To guard against a yuletide flop.

When all the gifts I give — go back.

I sigh.  But, hey —

Who’s keeping track?

What do you give to those who have?

Computers, bikes and skates —

Enough sweaters to warm Cleveland,

VCRs and tapes.

Sneakers, games and books,

magazines and jeans.

What could Christmas bring

That’s well within my means?

What if I give you patience

the next time you get stressed?

What if I say, okay,

I know you did your best.

The next time you fall short,

what if I lend a hand?

Or if things get confused,

I help you make a plan.

The next time you act smart,

what if I try to learn.

If my gift is kindness,

would that be returned?

copyright  1995, 2000   sara holbrook

*****

HOLIDAZE!

or, Santy Claws Gnu What Eye Kneaded

Lurching threw the do
on a too-toad Christmas mousse–
His name? I’ve knot a clew.
Eye think aisle call hymn Bruce.

The last thing eye recall,
eye was looking really sheik
and heading four a bawl
down buy Bolder Creak.

Eye slipped and hit my head
wile walking in the missed,
then awl my words fell out my ear
and now eye right like this!

Owe,
Witch is up?
Witch is down?
Witch which should eye use?
Until eye get my Christmas gift,
Aisle use witch won eye chews!

Eye opened up my ayes
and scrambled two my feat
and what too my sir prize
a voice said, “High, my suite!”

His close whir soft and read.
His presents gave me paws,
fore their upon his sled
was my idle — Santy Claws!

“Get up on this mousse.
Ewe took a nasty spilly.
Now tell me what ewe wont four Christmas
heir it gets two chili.”

Owe,
Witch is up?
Witch is down?
Witch which should eye use?
Until eye get my Christmas gift,
Aisle use witch won eye chews!
Eye gnu write aweigh
upon witch gift to seas:
“Awl eye wont four Christmas
is a dictionary, pleas!”

Owe,
Witch is up?
Witch is down?
Witch which should eye use?
Until eye get my Christmas gift,
Aisle use witch won eye chews!

santa-sleigh-color

(Thank ewe awl sew much–
this tail has run it’s coarse.
I’d sing ewe awl this song and such,

butt I’m a little horse – nay!)

by Renee LaTulippe

*****

Jane shares the first piece of writing she sold some time ago. It has been reprinted a few times elsewhere.

ADVENT

Amid final preparations

The world stops.

Hushed,

Waiting.

Star-quiet wonder

Pierced by a baby’s first cry.

How startlingly Jesus

Enters our hearts.

by Jane Heitman Healy

*****

Snowflakes

When snowflakes fall—
so soft,
so white—
I cup my hands
like bowls
of rice
to catch
these lacy
stars
of ice.
But when the sky—
so cold,
so bright—
turns out its
snowy
winter light,
I climb
in bed
to dream
all night.

by Julie Krantz

*****

Dear Santa,

It’s me, Eileen Fishburn again. I sent you a note, though I’m not quite sure when. But in it, I asked for a bike and a doll – and a real cooking oven. But that wasn’t all. I also asked, Santa, for skates and a book – a book about dancing. Oh, wait, let me look . . . The book is called Dancing, a Primer for Tots. I really do want it. Inside it are lots of pictures of kids doing tap and ballet. But that’s not the reason I’m writing today.
I need just one favor. I hope you’ll agree. For what I want most beneath my Christmas tree is a cute baby brother – one I can hold. I really do want one, but if it be told, a cute baby sister would also be fine. But hurry up, Santa, there isn’t much time!
So that’s all for now. Merry Christmas to you. I hope you remember I like chocolate, too. So thanks again, Santa. I’ll write you next year. And best Christmas wishes to all your reindeer.

Sincerely,
Eileen Fishburn

by Nancy Gow

*****

Each Time

Each time we pause for beauty –

a snowflake, a rainbow, a misty day

 

Each time we see our spirit in others

recognizing we are all one

 

Each time we forgive

letting the need-to-be-right go

 

Each time we treat living things

with respect, kindness, and love

 

Each time we glimpse the innocent child

beneath the masks we all wear

 

Each time we bring sunshine and hope

a warm touch, a friendly smile,

or a loving-kind thought

 

. . . it is truly Christmas-

the Christmas of caring and sharing,

giving and receiving.

© Cory Corrado

*****

Taunton River in December

The geese are eating day-old bread
From the children’s winter-mittened fists.
These ganders, intermittent guests,
If anything, are overfed,

For it’s the ducks we’ve come to stuff
With crusts of dough. In rills of slop
That spill above the river top,
Grass blades touched with feather-fluff

Skitter like mice beneath our boots
Beside the begging waterfowls
Which trail us, intimate as owls,
Nipping the tails of our snowsuits.

Greenhead mallard and his brown
And unrelenting hen advance
Orange feet, a feasting dance
One only meets this far from town.

by Steven Withrow

MRS. STANLEY’S CHRISTMAS
By David L. Harrison   

It was Christmas Eve and snowing. Mrs. Stanley’s feet hurt but she hummed a Christmas carol as she worked in her kitchen. Little John would be there soon. She hadn’t seen her grandson since last summer. The table set for four looked splendid with her best dishes. She hummed as she set out coffee cups.
She stopped humming when the telephone rang.
“Mama?” It was Joyce.
Mrs. Stanley knew something was wrong.
“We’re snowed in at the airport.”
“Oh no!”

Click here to read the rest of the story

Peace to all,
David

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Cynthia Leitich Smith

Greetings on this day after Christmas. Many of you may be hitting the sales about now but perhaps you’ll slow down to read my good news later. I’m delighted to tell you about another upcoming blog guest — Cynthia Leitich Smith. I suspect that Cynthia needs no introduction to anyone who follows the major blog sites or reads her great YA Gothic fantasy novels. I’ll furnish her bio when we get closer to February. That’s when I hope to bring Cynthia to my blog.

P.S. Cynthia interviewed me for her blog and it appears on 12/28. Here’s how to find it: Cynsations Craft, Career & Cheer interview is live (12/28) at:
http://cynthialeitichsmith.blogspot.com/2009/12/craft-career-cheer-david-l-harrison.html
It’s also crossposted to LJ, MySpace, Facebook, JacketFlap, and (later) Twitter).

Have you voted for your picks of December’s bone poems? At this point Priya Shah is leading in the Young Poet group with Hope Murphy in second place. Linda Kulp is ahead in the Poet group although that race is much tighter with Steven Withrow, Marjie DeWilde, and Andromeda Jazmon in hot pursuit. Technically Mimi Cross is the current top vote getter but Mimi is our October Hall of Fame Poet so she can’t win again during this twelve month period. Please read or reread the month’s delightful poems and vote for one favorite in each group. Everyone enjoys seeing the votes come in from readers who have taken the time to offer encouragement and appreciation. Everyone is deserving so urge friends and colleagues to vote while there is time.

My thanks to those who have commented on my Christmas story. I’m glad you enjoyed Mrs. Stanley’s Christmas.

Tomorrow is my Poem of the Week day. Kathy Temean has been selecting the poems so I’m always eager to see what she has chosen.David

Mrs. Stanley’s Christmas

MRS. STANLEY’S CHRISTMAS
By David L. Harrison   
  

It was Christmas Eve and snowing. Mrs. Stanley’s feet hurt but she hummed a Christmas carol as she worked in her kitchen. Little John would be there soon. She hadn’t seen her grandson since last summer. The table set for four looked splendid with her best dishes. She hummed as she set out coffee cups.
      She stopped humming when the telephone rang.
      “Mama?” It was Joyce.
      Mrs. Stanley knew something was wrong.
      “We’re snowed in at the airport.”
      “Oh no!”

Click here to read the rest of the story

Peace to all,
David

Sorry about the snow

Hello everyone. To those of you who have been stranded or inconvenienced by the record snowfall, my sincere sympathy. Here in the mid-section we don’t often see snow over a few inches deep so it’s hard to imagine what you are going through now. I wish you sunny skies, warmer temperatures, and diminishing snow. Enough already.

I’m going to post a Christmas story on the 24th. I wrote it three or four years ago at the request of our newspaper. Last year I read it in our Hall for Performing Arts as part of a Christmas show. This year it was published in a booklet used as a fund raiser to help feed folks who need a little hand. So now I think I’ll offer it to you. I hope you will enjoy it. The name of it is Mrs. Stanley’s Christmas There’s a lot of snow in my story too.

.

Thanks to a last minute flurry of student poems, we finished with 23 entries for December! While Kathy prepares the ballot boxes to post tomorrow, I’ll be thinking of a good word for January.

Thanks to everyone who participated this month with their poems. In our first three months we’ve enjoyed poems posted by 22 adult poets and 34 student poets from 12 states: Arkansas, New Hampshire, Virginia, Missouri, Ohio, Indiana, Maryland, Oregon, California, New Jersey, Minnesota, and Rhode Island. At least 13 teachers have helped their students write poems that got posted. I think we’re set for a great year in 2010.

David