A collage of New Year's Eve nostalgia...

...sharing some of my collection of favorite New Year pictures - mostly

 vintage postcards, which I love;  also you will see what else comes to mind for many usually on this Eve...

or what is memorable or special about the this time of the season.  Maybe you will find one

 photo that particular rings a bell for you or strikes a chord ;)

Happy New Year to all blog visitors this night...

BTW, my newest search found a scarce greeting card by John P. Squire meet packer

 company, possible sent to only store owners, not the public.  It shows a mother pig with the 

old date on her back and the piglets with the new year on their
backs, 1912...can be seen on eBay..

.

Clickety click of change..

Over at   Dversepoets.com lovely Claudia suggests we write about change, turnings taking place...she gave us a wide latitude, with the New Year on the way, for all types of change...

Once, 
she worked 9 to 5
in the secretarial pool..first ladies of the
pantsuit desk set... buttoned down
blue collar blouse....
..shorthand tablet
at the ready
Brassy,
clickety click 
of typewriters
halted abruptly..
whingg!
A long whistle sounded,
emptying rows of desks
Prattling, they punched cards.. 
Down,
crowding into an
elevator..
wrought iron
40's type..
10 floors to the 
main lobby of the department store..out 
the glass swiveling doors.. onto the neon lit puddled sidewalk
Night..
found them at the darkly Rose Cafe..a joint that played the blues, served stiff Martinis...for a time, a speak easy, of an era when art nouveau  flourished..with olives, she preferred two.  Blythe spirits jitterbugging..dancing the flat foot floozy...
Noises echo now....in my minds eye I see them...or is it a movie screen?

Changes, 
 ...the world would soon be at 
war, second one..
Facing the abyss,  ladies united,
worked two jobs - as riveters,  making
parachutes, packing ammunition
The tenderer sex had to
ration, sacrifice...
a patriotism few questioned
Clickety clack,
machines drown out
gay voices and song... 

70 years go by..
new doors open, new paths to travel 
We fly around the world in no time..
Ladies today can be anything..an executrix,
win congressional seats..
Well...
then there are micro chips...
Generations make rapid strides..
for all we know Hillary will be President
one day, and Bill
will be the first First Gentleman
Change..
I have a feeling it's always going to be 
something BIG.. in store for you and me
.
Clickety click...
a toast, so "let's have another cup of coffee,
another piece of pie!"

                                                                      
                 
   

...pondering footprints and moon shadows...

With a few small changes on the face of my blog I am joining in over at  dversepoets.com today for Open Mike link which is each Tuesday.  Besides taking a break, if it had not been for some lengthy configurations issues with my email servers I would have returned sooner to blogging.  With remote tech support, alas it is all taken care of and a relief to be connected again and catching up on reading some poetry.  I hope you all are still enjoying the holiday mood and cheer or even just getting through the times in hopes of new beginnings and of not falling off any 'cliffs' ;-)...slighty ill today, however.

by klr

....before a glint in father's eye

somewhere safe from darkened sky

among ordinary angels ....

my soul floated between levels

...not knowing what the future held

yet dancing to a distant beat,

my sustenance was of
another world;

intravenously given by
divine caregivers.....possibly
guardians who's business was
inventories and assignments..
...or altruistic endeavors..

who can say?

From what vestige point did I emerge,

as in who decided how to be me?

Who knows the girl in the painting, 

The Museum Watcher, and what
lusts lead her in this life 

or the next?

...a glint in another man or

woman's eye?

...eternally not to rest, to

 fill a dream, live a lie?

I'd like to know that place where I 

will reside, or did,  and
how do  I spend so many good
days...most of the ions of time....
What peace truly comes when we
lay down our swords...and walk
this way no more?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For MBK's  Form for All Dec. 20 - Kyrielle

An Octave of Common measure
by klr

Sunlight bent low in clear crisp air

Noon time light moved the trees

Felled shadows touched down frozen ground
  In stole Solstice with ease

Gold glitter shines in half moon light

Footprints tell of presence

Underneath thin layer of cold

   Icy warm coverlets

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Be still...

Over at  dversepoets.com  we are writing quaterns today; fun to do, but I plan to take a little time away from writing, a week or so, give my muse a rest and hopefully build up a reserve of work while working on another project or two around the house.  Thanks in advance for all who visit here;  I am learning so much from reading your poetry and look forward to many more meetings at d'Pub.

Distill yourself and be aware

Sense all around you as if blind
 Hear the sounds of your dreams, I dare

wake up to know deafness in kind

Silver linings everywhere
Distill yourself and be aware
Run hard from letdowns in this life
free yourself from such needless strife

Long shadows on the crusty snow
but purplish shade of your chateau
Distill yourself and be aware
the glint of sunlight need not glare

Yes, our minds want so much to know

What cherubs whisper in the air
Abide the mysteries, let go
Distill yourself and be aware

by klr

What I miss...

Already -

I go barefoot in a downpour 
      so don't miss that -
Once I knew how to catch a wave - 
ride it in 
and how I'd like to dive into a warm pile of
cotton sheets again, softened by 100 years 
of washing -
 dried in bright sunshine

I miss playing baseball -  in an empty field, 
with boys
ringing doorbells on May Day with 
my friend, Laura -
I used to love to skip
in a meadow green - picking it's daisies, 
play make believe,
and, without caution, 
leap on my horse - and ride away 


I miss the tickle  of  
my Grandpa's whiskers,
Mom's cool hands on my forehead,
    feeling for a temp
I miss being gloriously serenaded 
by my two vying male 
yellow canaries - Carlos,  Ricky, 
changing diapers, babies laughing

I miss falling in love,
wearing a dusty pink lace veil
with satin trim o'er my brow -
Perhaps someday I will again,
with someone I've yet 
to meet - 
someone who will dance me 'round the
dance floor all night long,
strong arm guiding\my lower back -
     I miss my youth..
             ..I would say

Yet another 25 years is a whole lifetime, isn't it?  We are writing about "missing something" today at dversepoets.com hard for me to decide on just one thing..nothing 'profound' here ;)