or how the PRAIRIE wind…..goes singing by!

I will not pause an hour again to build
A castle….in the far dim land of DREAM-
Or how the wind flows ever whispering by-
Or bright with GOLDEN LEAVES
THE OLD TREES LEAN!

I think there is an ANGEL very near-
Who tells me how to weave each word….and line:
Then we together sing this SILLYSONG-
Or play it on this Old Violin of mine!

I can not climb again the prairie hills-
Or walk for miles, or dow some dusty lane-
So let me KEEP this only land I know….
Of stars, and gleeming sky……
AND…..FAR OFF RAIN!

Thats as fine a poem as I can write… I didn’t write it, the ANGEL DID….as I say in my song. If its good enough for her, its GOOD ENOUGH FOR ANYBODY…..even John F. Kennedy, only HE is dead. Woner how long it will be before they SHOOT BOBBY?

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Sillysong.

By: Cynthia DiSciullo and William Zigmont

Sunshine leaned back into her comfy overstuffed chair,

Felt the amber glow and warmth of the fireplace there

The magic of a youthful mind is so very scrumptious and delicious

A charming place things are really-real even if they are fictitious

Rambleton Acres felt a jolt of winter’s mighty breath and gale

Which now becomes the back-drop of this cutesy child’s tale

Snow and cold had frosted the windows and whitened the yard

Icicles hung from the eves like shark’s teeth all pointy and hard

Beneath her seasonal blanket she tucked her leg under and said,

“Why, oh, why are hats worn by Santa Claus just white and red?”

Sunshine closed her eyes and traveled in the beauty of her fertile mind

In hopes of an answer but instead possibilities is what she’d find

In the corner of her mind’s room stood dapperly dressed Saint Nick

His pants pleated, and his coat adorned by epaulettes the color of brick

Four brilliantly polished stag-head buttons held the sable coat snuggly tight

And his boots were more the slipper, ornate much the festive delight

But it was the hat, the most unique hat that caught the child’s mind’s eye

Its minutia of intricate detail was the reason and the only reason why

Alas, an unusual coiffure of white framed it as might holly beneath a bow

The traditional hat was not that any more, for she imagined a sideshow

A snowman with a full bristled broom, held in arms thin for they were stick

Eyes and crooked smile coal, scarf plaid, a carrot nose, sporting a cowlick

The mailbox wore a red hat, showing Santa ringing a bell bedecked in

A swan covered shirt, a gingerbread neck tie held with a wreath tie-pin

The details of the hat revealed that four frogs sat on block spelling noel

The chorus singing from parchment songbooks the song Jingle Bell

A tiny rocking horse covered in cloth, the print poinsettia and holly on white

Wore a red bow, matching ribbon it rein and a white mane trimmed tight

A Christmas raccoon was placing a glow star on the top of an orange tree

Four teddies looked on, their vest’s button of star shaped shimmered glee

A woman’s handbag sat beneath that tree shaped exactly like the tree it sat below

Fifteen and twenty pine cone cluttered in a pile circled by a train, chuggin’ slow

Carrying a drum, wrapped presents, a pup, a kitty, four birds, a sled, and mittens

If you looked in one car’s window you’d see a girl sitting with three kittens

To the left, just above the brim, a girl was pulling her sled on shiny gliders

On it was one red-headed dolly, a stuffed bear and penguin as lucky riders

Look hard and you will see an old typewriter with paper in its carriage that said,

“Dear Santa…” and two mice were depressing the keys in dresses red-on-red

There do you see it, yes, a mouse turning a wheel, grinding coffee a holiday blend

One can easily imagine it must be a special gift for a very special friend

Standing alone on a frozen pond of ice is one lone snowman completely colored blue

Blue jays abound a blue birdhouse, blue top hat, scarf, coat, mittens, blue, too

A Christmas seal wears, yellow ear muffs that match in color to hand muff of a miss

She shyly turning her head beneath the mistletoe avoiding a beau’s frisky kiss

Duck… duck… goose… duck… duck… swan… all about to fly if you holler

Look closely and notice wreaths, bows, bells and bears are hanging from their collar

Three skunks are marching two carrying signs, one reading “I heart snow!”

The other, “I brake for reindeer!” while the drummer skunk-boy tympanis slow

In the far corner up near the tips ball is a huge up-dumped gold Santa sack

And all the things she saw were flowing from the wonderful Christmas pack

Her whimsical thoughts were interrupted by the call of her older brother

“Sunny, it is time for us to go, ready to visit our wonderful great grandmother?”

Sunshine looked around the room, smiled, fluffed her curls, and rose from her chair,

Neatly folded the blanket, covered Wally, and then winked to the teddy bear

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at SANTA’S HAT.

And Satan greeted me with glee,
He said, “How are you, can’t you see,
That you are in my world to stay?
I own your soul and you will pay.”

And voices taunted, visions swelled,
In total darkness, in this Hell,
I begged and begged for sweet release,
A little hope, a little peace.

And then a ‘savior’ came to me,
With powder white, “I’ll set you free,
If in your veins you take me in,
You’ll feel alive, like you can win.”

I tried to fight against this foe,
To turn from what he would bestow,
But in the end surrendered all,
And set myself up for a fall.

The powder melted in the spoon,
I felt the rush and very soon,
Was walking on the razor’s edge,
With bloody feet upon this ledge.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Razor’s Edge.

The tender soft melody clothed me in exultation,
And its incandescence, dancing in my spirit in glee;
I forgot myself, when the sweet melody, awakened me
And I fell into a languid knock-out, inside my soul?

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Melody….

ย

ย ย ย ย Wintertime on the farm was always looked forward to with great anticipation, because it meant less chores and more time for recreation. When the snow began falling, I felt a certain satisfaction, because it meant endless skiing and horse drawn sleigh rides to all corners of the farm. Our dapple mare, prancing in front of our huge red sleigh, seemed to be enjoying the ride as much as the riders. The horse and sleigh fitted with sleigh bells added to the glorious ride with the jingle, jingle, jingling of the bells.ย In the freezing weather, and the chill that always accompanied our sleigh ride, the thought of hot chocolate and hot apple cider was always looked forward to with gleeful anticipation. Sitting in front of a roaring fire, fed by apple wood logs with their magnificent scent, drinking hot chocolate, and apple cider is an experience that will last a lifetime. Although the outside weather was bone chilling, our home was toasty warm. Sleeping at night under soft, feather filled, comforters always guaranteed a restful sleep, which always accompanied our adventurous sleigh, rides. Winter also brought with it days of celebration such as, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year. The wonderful cooking odors in our little farmhouse around the holidays would be hard to describe. How can anyone describe heavenly smells? Roasting turkey, apple, peach, and pear pies. Mashed potatoes, candied yams, peas, corn, string beans, and cranberry sauce. There was always enough food to feed the thirty or more friends and relatives that attended our food fest.

ย ย ย ย

After such a sumptuous repast, it is time for conversation, because many of our guests had not seen one another since our last holiday. Talk is usually about new births; weddings, divorces, promotions and the gamut runs from A to Z. The saddest part, for me, of any get together is never in meeting; rather, itโ€™s when friends and loved ones have to depart. There is something inside me that is heart wrenching, and I have never been able to decipher what brings on this melancholy feeling whenever family and friends gather and then depart. Out of all the holidays, I likeThanksgiving best, because there is no hype associated with this holiday. No one is trying to sell you anything. None of the guests are expecting any gifts. None of the guests need bother to wonder what gift to bring. Itโ€™s just a good old fashion holiday where you come, enjoy a good meal and be happy.

ย ย ย ย On the other hand, Christmas is strictly a holiday that should be celebrated in a purely religious way. It is the birthday of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We should take all the commercialism out of Christmas. The solemnity and true meaning of this sacred holiday should supercede the expense of gift giving. Presents are nice to receive; however, many families are already burdened with the expense of rearing their own families, and cannot afford the added expense of buying presents for other family members.

ย ย ย ย

ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย All the retailers have already relegated Christmas to the scrap heap, because they have already taken Christ out of Christmas, because they spell it XMAS. What should this tell us???

ย

ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย New Year is another day to be celebrated because it brings in a New Year, and hopefully a new beginning of a prosperous year for everyone. This is another holiday that needs restructuring, because many people treat this wonderful day of new beginnings in a ribald manner. Instead of seeing the New Year with bright eyes and bushy tails most view it through black or rose colored glasses, because this cuts down the glare on bloodshot eyes.

Thomas Fenning

Dec-05

ย

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at A city boy’s dream of farm life.

My soul was in a slumber

Then you came and showered

Your fragrance through your kisses

And awakened me from my sleepโ€ฆ

I am now imprisoned in a solitary

Cell, of your ardent love.

The heart yearns for looking out,

To see the vistas of green plush valleys;

Sylvan hills, where the nymphs roam;

The stream where the thousand suns

Envisions through bubbles and foams;

Where the green paddy fields ripple

In the breeze, and the lonely man angling

For a stray fish and sings his

Favorite lines, of a popular ballad;

Where, the one legged stork watch

The clouds wandering over the distant

Horizon, casting a shadow, over the

Dales. and the hills on its sojourn;

Where, the boatman sings a mournful lyric

And rows happily against the tideโ€ฆ.

The rain splattering on the placid lake

Making tiny holes in the surfaceโ€ฆ.

Where the rain drips through the leaves

Of the needle trees, in lustrous rivulets;

Where the urchins play and gleefully

Jump naked, into the murky pond.

Your soothing fingers caressing my nape,

While you stand close, embracing me,

Arouse me from these reveries of the

Long forgotten fantasies, suddenly

I realize, that all these are embedded

In your feather touchโ€ฆโ€ฆโ€ฆโ€ฆ

This post was originally published on Your Poems, Your Stories at Feather touchโ€ฆโ€ฆ..