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'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."
*tears in my eyes... so true Linda ~ however I must say I know of people who think that way and feel that way.. my Mom spoke that way the other day and it made me feel so desperate.... how to make her understand? Guess, I write this poem for her on a card, for her to behold and to keep it close to her heart, whenever she feels that lonely again... Thanks, Linda!
We won't have a Christmas this year, you say
For now the children have all gone away;
And the house is so lonely, so quiet and so bare
We couldn't have a Christmas that they didn't share.
We won't have a Christmas this year, you sigh,
For Christmas means things that money must buy.
Misfortunes and illness have robbed us we fear
Of the things that we'd need to make Christmas this year.
We won't have a Christmas this year you weep,
For a loved one is gone, and our grief is too deep;
It will be a long time before our hearts heal,
And the spirit of Christmas again we can feel.
But if you lose Christmas when troubles befall,
You never have really had Christmas at all.
For once you have had it, it cannot depart
When you learn that true Christmas is Christ in your heart.
only objection of mine would be, the rhythm is
a bit too simple for a long poem. that's a personal
taste and makes me perceive it as prose as well. :-)
I sat in the office all alone
Staring aimlessley at my phone
Waiting for a light in the cover
To say I had a text from my lover
Suddenly a flash on my screen
From Darren could it have been
I opened the mail and yes without fail
Here he was with his own little tale
He had been in a meeting and busy you see
But soon got in touch when he was free
My face lit with joy as I read with glee
It said "I love you" from him to me
I've just got in and it's Friday night
Darrens picture a welcoming sight
So many bullets I've had to bite
Maybe this time I will get it right
As I lie in my bed tonight I will dream
What all these feelings possibly mean
A bolt of lightening from up above
Could this be my one true love
I thank you for that comment but would like to add in my defense that I have never written a peom before and this was my first attempt. I believe my muse understood the meaning of this. Possibly badly written but Rome wasn't built in a day....I'll be back.
...poem today and the writer (a very beautiful young woman that has stolen my affection) gave me permission to put it here for comments, as they are unsure of their ability. Personally I see talent , but I could be biased ;o))
The difference a day makes:
As I stood at the airport awaiting the departure call,
I feel nervous.
Flying alone was scary.
I thought about my settled life to pass the time.
arriving safely at my destination
I was excited about the next 24 hours
Drinking, dancing and having fun was the plan.
Let it begin.
The night crept away,
and as it did I was unaware it was taking my settled life with it.
Something changed and it felt good.
LOVE
Arriving back at the airport the next day,
again I felt nervous.
but not about flying, about the changes in my heart.
flying is no longer scary,
because as i spread my wings,
I know you are there to catch me if i fall.
Physically the journey ended,
But emotionally, it will never end.
Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house,
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
In hopes that Jesus would not come there
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head,
And Mom in her rocker with baby on lap
Was watching the late show while I took a nap.
When out of the east there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray,
I knew in a moment this must be the Day!!!
The light of His face made me cover my head,
It was Jesus returning! Just like He had said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him, in spite of myself.
In the Book of Life, which He held on His hand,
Was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,
When He said,"It's not here"..my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with Love;
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose without a sound
While all the rest were left standing around.
I fell to my knees...but it was too late,
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight:
OH, if only I had been ready tonight.
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,
The coming of Jesus is drawing quite near.
THERE'S ONLY ONE LIFE AND WHEN COME
THE LAST CALL, WE'LL FIND THAT THE BIBLE WAS TRUE AFTER ALL!!
Es ist ein Schnitter, der heißt Tod,
Hat Gewalt vom höchsten Gott,
Heut wetzt er das Messer,
Es schneid't schon viel besser,
Bald wird er drein schneiden,
Wir müssen nur leiden.
Hüte dich schöns Blümelein!
Was heut noch grün und frisch da steht,
Wird morgen schon hinweggemäht:
Die edlen Narzissen,
Die Zierden der Wiesen,
Viel schön' Hyazinthen,
Die türkischen Binden.
Hüte dich schöns Blümelein!
Viel hundert tausend ungezählt,
Das nur unter die Sichel fällt,
Ihr Rosen, ihr Lilien,
Euch wird er austilgen,
Auch die Kaiser-Kronen,
Wird er nicht verschonen.
Hüte dich schöns Blümelein!]3
Das himmelfarbe Ehrenpreiß,
Die Tulpanen gelb und weiß,
Die silbernen Glocken,
Die goldenen Flocken,
Senkt alles zur Erden,
Was wird daraus werden?
Hüte dich schöns Blümelein!
Ihr hübsch Lavendel, Roßmarein,
Ihr vielfärbige Röselein.
Ihr stolze Schwertlilien,
Ihr krause Basilien,
Ihr zarte Violen,
Man wird euch bald holen.
Hüte dich schöns Blümelein!
Trotz! Tod, komm her, ich fürcht dich nicht,
Trotz, eil daher in einem Schritt.
Werd ich nur verletzet,
So werd ich versetzet
In den himmlischen Garten,
Auf den alle wir warten.
Freu' dich, schönes Blümelein.
Well my Friend's , here we are at the last month of the year, with every important day gone but Christmas; the best natured holiday of them all. As always, it comes just in time to keep us from concentrating on the mind numbing sameness of winter days, wrapping the year up in a bright, homey package. Luckily, for those of us who live here, in my little town. It's such a pretty little town in in its setting of steep, rolling hills, that every day of every season has its own sort of beauty. The winter sun is kind to these ancient mountian ridges, striking colors that are different every day and giving a hospitable glow to all the little houses nestled in on the hillsides. My town, to its everlasting credit, still looks like woodsmoke, firelight and home to anyone who ever lived here.
For most people, there are two times in the long year that they want to see the home town, the home folks and the scenes of their childhood. One is in the fall, when the leaves turn and bring a bitter-sweet nostalgia with their falling, reminding us all that everything must die, and we need to revisit our lives. But the other is Christmas, which celebrates family life at its very best; the kindness and sharing of people who have become dear to each other and want to be together. Christmas is a month's worth of good cheer . The lighting-up we do for Christmas warms up a whole town, I've always had to exercise sanity in this mattet of lights. :o) I would like to stertch lights from one end of our house to the other, a blazing fanfare of twinkling lights for every Christmas bound traveler to see. Good sense tells me that a woman of my age shouldn't be crawling and climbing to high places. :o( Sooo going to do just a little this year. I've put a tree on my entry porch (( I've got three porches and a gazebo that in years past i''ve had a tree on each of them)) and I've placed my big Christmas wreath on the front of the house to welcome Christmas company in case I have some.
What all of us here are looking forward to is the Christmas parade, which each year, to our amazement, lives up to everyone's expectations. There is no such thing as "Well, they can't beat last year's parade" because last year's was held in a chilly, misling rain, but the people who build floats and decorate vehicles are always out to outdo the previous year anyway. :o) Of all the holidays, Christmas is the time of lights and good will and the Christmas Parade has worlds of both. But the very best thing it shines with I think, is a sense of home that represents every little town and community in our County. It's a parade that takes time to have little kids on tricycles and pulling coaster wagons, with town dogs keeping them companyIt's a parade with horses and boats and old cars looking their best , trucks and trailers full of celebraters and gleaming with lights, fire engines and police cars with sirens and more lights to build the excitement. It's a noisy, festive, glittering way to go into winter and we all make the most of it. Like our city crew who each year climb ladders and poles to put up our street light decorations, we are all part of this best of holidays. Wherever you are, we'll remind you of HOME.
May our friendship last forever;
May I sail upon your sea.
May we go through life together;
May there always be a "we."
May I be your endless sky;
May you breathe my gentle air.
May you never wonder why
Each time you look for me, I'm there.
May we be for each a smile
Like the warm, life-giving sun;
Yet when we're in pain awhile,
May our suffering be one.
May we share our special days,
The happiness of one for two;
And if we must go separate ways,
Let my love remain with you.
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