The air is full of Christmas....

Christmas spirit gladdens the air;
multiple Charley horses
kept me awake last night,
and sniffles 
-due to cold weather?
..reason some head south for 
the winter
Yesterday I had a raffle ticket 
in my purse; could win $1000,
to be announced at 1:00 pm.
First to the Holiday Market, 
then to the drawing, in time, 
in spite of myself!

Arrived at the red barn,
herbal smells of soup du jour 
mingled with of scents of cut
greenery, handmade candles,
fresh pies for sale;
unrushed, I found a handwoven gift,
encountering only
holiday good will, friendliness
People gathered to hear the winning 
number - wasn't mine, but who knew,
it was worth the trip 
I bought seeds from 
the The Chocolate Flower                          Farm Shop, 
entered the Gallery where 
local artwork sold
Hot coffee took away the chill,
down a lane and alleyway,
decorated with many  lights, 
I walked to Studio 106; 
reverie spilled 
from a wine tasting room. 
Main Street doors artfully decked 
brightened sidewalks 
as day turned to dusk
I drove the seven miles across
scenic farmland,
sprinkled with lights;
passed through tall misty evergreens
No mail today.. and so it goes,  
will arrive eventually
Snug as a bug in a rug; 
 now to bake Grandma Eva's 
gumdrop bread, 
presents to wrap, hour'derves to make,
on Christmas Day to take
to my daughter's.
 I will catch an early ferry
in the morning,
help her prepare for company;
blessed are we this Christmas Eve,
on the brink of 2014,
Christmas is in the air

winter solstice / driftwood dreams

cold clear day, sunny beach,                                            

ears frozen -                
just yesterday;
today, 
sugar coated earth, trees, 
two inches fell from heaven
 warmer  tomorrow -
 where driftwood logs
 hug grassy paths,                                                                  
 footprints of tiny hurried feet                                              
 disappear with high tide;                                                                                                               
                                           aware I am 
                                           of ripples in time -                  
                                           i feel the world pivoting                 
                                           from it's heart's fulcrum;
                                                                                
 i am dreamily caught in
 time's stunning, hushed, ancient measure..

Nets....a story..

                                                                                                               
The old sailor secured lines and anchor                                          

of the wooden boat built with his own hands
He had honed his skills at his father's side,
learned to speak an uncommon language
Cold salt water penetrated his face as 
he trudged up the hill in the mud,
deliberately and walked to the temple
by the sea's edge.
Home safe from the sea on prayers and amens
from villagers and families,
the fishermen, drenched and exhausted,
entered the building to light candles.
In remembrance they lit them one by one -
 for those who met their deep fate
in shipwrecks long before, in mightier boats than his
Hundreds lit candles that night before him;
as he put his next on the alter,
he knelt on his knees, bowed his head
in prayer
A choir sang 'Hallelujah'
Purposely he made the long walk home
His house was built in a glen of yew trees,
by a carpenter who once roamed the
countryside, a man who quietly suffered
great anguish and taught him how to fish
He remembers how many men gathered
for dinner when his father spoke; people
came from everywhere to hear him
He remembered his mother's tears,
hidden behind her cloak
Putting the boy on his knee his father
had told him how to live -
"...feeding souls is my purpose in life and
fishing is your trade...I am the net for
all men's safety in their struggles in life -
you are the seed from which faith will grow."
He had looked deep into his father's eyes,
 saw his own bright light of being reflected
therein.  The man replied  "Always be grateful,
faithful and kind;  you will fill my heart with joy"
And then he said, "and remember how we played -
you are my one and only boy"

This is the last prompt for writers over at dversepoets.com  - and Mary kindly asks us to make an offering of a poem of candles, light or any form of illumination that has to do with commemorating the season in any way..

Wood smoke...

....yesterday began with
a purchase at a copying store;
after, I bought gas, and coffee
as an eye opener                                                                  
Driving then to the little beach
to find sea shells to make
ornaments  -
presents for family,
mussel and clam shells angels
with a glue gun
Then I looked above the frosty
banks of the bay;
two eagles circled each other in play
A sailboat's mast became their perch,
December's sun reflected off
their snow white feathered coverage
Ice blue sky heralded pristine farmlands
in the distance, pink cotton candy clouds
brimmed with sugar sweetness -
our winter's cold   creating clarity
Water lazily lisped ashore at my boots;
unseen currents carry the salmon below,
and the eagles, to and fro,

taking them wherever they must go

Then I came home to decorate the porch -
(oh my, the tangle in the string of lights)
and to hang a huge paper snowflake...
All done in short order, "Festive enough,"
I say, with the 3 foot tree in the window,
 "I'll take a break! "

There upon arrived a spontaneous invitation,
I wrapped a scarf around my neck and
put on my gloves and walked
 a short distance -
to a gathering place in the woods;
the light in the window welcomed me.
There stood an old tool shed; neighbors
 sat inside around a small wood stove,
Snug quarters - a tiny lit Christmas tree
sat on a shelf, next to old pots and pans,
 oil cans, barrels and stools to sit on
My eyes took in the old collectables,
tools, and a small frig,
my ears the radio's Christmas music
And while I listened to stories
(said to be based on fact, real and true ;-)
we drank hot toddies, just visiting,
toasted 'cheers' to the night, and
to the holidays.
 Warm and delicious the drink,
the fire and the company..
just us old hippies..
And so it went; now it seemed to me
a current was also carrying me,...
through each moment of each hour
 of every day, as it should be...

Today we are writing of hearth or home using familiar common speech...with Gay Cannon at dversepoets.com

Advent's meaning..

1.

Love amidst the snow is falling                                                                 

Christmas time is here once again 

green garlands greet friends gathering
"Trim your hearth and set your table"
Gentle gifts, consideration
awareness of those less able

Advent calendars speak of time
paper windows count the days
of anticipation and hope
Father Christmas's stories told
by the fireside unhurried
of three ships and a lost angel,
illustrations most delightful

A crescent Clair de Lune on high
midnight song and candle lighting;
Hang wreaths of rose hips and fir
recycle your tree for a smaller foot print 
feed the birds, blessings to all 
around the globe - show you care

2.
Gingerbread houses and paper
snowflakes; life is not make believe
goodness is man's second nature
perhaps war is ultimately 
unnecessary.  The mentally ill
spill out of facilities                                                                                                                          
Catalogs celebrating toys retail 

wonder of homemade cards, stockings

give way to hunger games played out
dolls, toys, and nutcrackers smiling
party's guest sold wrong Christmas Story

Mischievous elves and Polar bears

borne out of fantasies ideal
naive Alice waits for St. Nick
and a partridge and doves a pair
sought solace in opium's kick
Lanterns spread light across the snow
and people know what is enough
frugality and dignity speak to those who know
Victor Hugo's Les Miserables -
lessons in poverty's sadness
for all donations not given,
miracles can prevent madness

Advent or Alice and Wonderland - which would you write about? 
We can even combine them today per Claudia at dversepoets.com I chose to compare the pros and cons of the Christmas season as we count down to Christmas Eve.

                                                                                                                                              
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

Lips...and eyes...55 words

   Handsome hands  
encircled the cup -
then pushed back his 
tweed hat,
revealing 
thick salt and peppery 
brows;
his sculpted lips 
sipped coffee, 
moistening his silver mustache -
 when "fine lovemaking" 
came to mind
His jaw tightened -
 my body 
flushed 
creamy crimson
Our eyes locked, 
conveying 
"soul mate";
I knew I was going to 
marry him
someday

Today we are writing 55 words, no more no less                               

        

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Tides and Home Movies....

It's Open Link Night over at dversepoets.com  Take a peak at what others have to offer in the way of poetry...

Black and white flickers on walls, images
of we kids way back when in summers hot;
spliced film footage of us then, at waves' edge,
running on hard wet sand, white hot sand not 

Low tide found us exploring ocean rocks 
with pails, shovels, eyes sought unbroken shells;
seaweed trained ankles, agates filled pockets
Moats filled with foam as our sand castles fell

The present passed quickly by, just from our
jumping up and down; grandma waved and smiled
we poked anemones  assumed flowers

mollusks squirted up at us, crabs ran wild 

Sun tan oil, first aid, and steaming cocoa;

We ate charred hot dogs, blackened marshmallows
Starfish stared back at us; jellyfish foul
memories in a groove of time, kept safe somehow 

Somewhere, a lifetime ago, the laughter 
we saw on the screen abruptly ended 
The silent opera was over faster
than any of us ever intended

Reels spun out of control, film's tail flapped about 
Now do you hear the ocean far away?
Hold the shells to your ear if any doubt -
.. it's funny how fast we moved on that day?