Something Changed - Lyndon Queripel

Something changed
I don’t know why
I don’t know where or when
Something changed
I don’t know how
But it was different then

Something changed
I don’t know what
But I know it’s true
Something changed
It’s not the same
Was it me or was it you ?

Lyndon Queripel

Image : Pixabay - geralt

Christmas Toys - Edwin C. Ranck

Say, I like toys,
    Christmas toys.
Remember when we were boys
    Long ago?
Then you were a kid
    Not a beau.
And on Christmas Day,
    Oh, say,
We got up in the dark
    And had a jolly lark
Round the fire.
    The cold air was shocking
As we peeped in our stocking--
    And, way down in the toe,
Now say this is so--
    Dad placed a dollar.
Made me holler.
    Yes, sirree,

They were good to me.
    Remember Jim?
Mean trick I did him.
    You know Jim was surly?
Well I got up early
    Took his dollar out,
And put a rock
    In his sock.
Gee, he was mad,
    Went and told dad;
But dad he just laughed
    And said:
Might's well be dead
    If you couldn't have fun.
Then for spite,
    I kept that dollar 'til night.
Funny, seein' these toys
    Made me think of us boys.
But now, Gee!
    Christmas ain't like it used to be.

Edwin C. Ranck

Image : Pixabay - rosecoutre0

Christmas - Sir Walter Scott

The glowing censers, and their rich perfume;
The splendid vestments, and the sounding choir;
The gentle sigh of soul-subduing piety;
The alms which open-hearted charity
Bestows, with kindly glance; and those
Which e'en stern avarice.
Though with unwilling hand,
Seems forced to tender; an offering sweet
To the bright throne of mercy; mark
This day a festival.

And well our Christian sires of old
Loved when the year its course had roll'd,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all its hospitable train.
Domestic and religious rite
Gave honour to the holy night.
On Christmas eve the bells were rung,
On Christmas-eve the mass was sung;
That only night in all the year
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donn'd her Kirtle sheen;
The hall was dress'd with holly green;
Then open'd wide the baron's hall,
To vassal, tenant, serf and all:
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And ceremony doff'd his pride.
All hail'd with uncontroll'd delight,
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.

Sir Walter Scott

Image : Pixabay - Myriams-Fotos

Ten Days Before Christmas 2021 - Kathy Figueroa

'Twas ten days before Christmas
The weather was drear
And people in Canada
Were experiencing fear
 
A sense of gloom
Was felt everywhere
As Virus Omicron
Hung in the air
 
New government restrictions
Took more rights away
And the pandemic made everyone
Fretful, not gay
 
People socially distanced
They stayed well apart
And the strain on their lives
Made an ache in their heart
 
There wasn’t a lot
That filled folks with joy
It seemed daily news
Was designed to annoy
 
The media blared
That predictions were bleak
And a third booster shot
Was what jabbed folks should seek
 
For the virus multiplied
Incredibly fast
And it looked like forever
The pandemic would last
 
So over the season
Was cast a pall
And people didn’t feel
Very merry at all
 
Businesses floundered
Money was tight
As the pandemic’s end
Was nowhere in sight
 
Prices went up
People were concerned
Things started to cost
Much more than folks earned
 
Breakups and suicides
Were on the rise
Propaganda spread facts
But some were shown to be lies
 
It was a time without merriment
Without social life, without mirth
A time to make you worry
About man’s fate on this Earth
 
People began to wonder
“How will this end?”
It was like humanity
Needed a friend
 
But as Christmas Day
Drew nearer and nearer
The true reason to celebrate
Became clearer and clearer
 
It wasn’t about presents
Parties and food
It was more about
Heartfelt gratitude
 
It was about faith
And miracles wrought
About good news for man
That Jesus Christ brought
 
A way to ease
Burdens of the soul
A way to make
Broken spirits whole
 
So we celebrate
His compassion and caring
His way of life
Of kind deeds and sharing
 
Though times are rough
And, of the virus, we’re fearful
Remembering “the reason for the season”
Will help us feel cheerful!
 
No matter the race
Culture, or creed
Good news is something
That we ALL need

Kathy Figueroa

Image : Pixabay - GlauchauCity

Confession To A Murder - Donald Keyman

To a woodland glade 
with a brand new spade 
in the middle of the night
I know that it’s not right
I’ve claimed one more
I’m beyond the law
You better stop me soon
From playing my tune
But maybe it’s too late
Here comes the middle eight
There’s a deadly toll
In that grassy knoll 
They’re beside the tracks
I’m hazy on the facts
But you did your best
It’s lucky I confessed

Donald Keyman

Image : Pixabay - jarmoluk

The System - Ian Duquemin

The warning signs were in his eyes
The pain was locked away inside
His body beaten black and blue
From every punch his parents threw 
And yet not one reached out to him 
The evidence was on his skin
His fear so obvious to see
A short life spent in agony 
Locked away alone to cry
Yet no one ever wondered why? 
No food or toys. No time to play
No bed for him to sleep and lay
No one rang the warning bell
To save this child from living hell
To wrap him in a caring arm
And keep him safe from any harm
"The system" let this poor boy die
Of that "The system" can't deny
How many more will die the same? 
And you "The system" still to blame
These children, they depend on you 
To see things from a child's view 
To hear the things they need to say
Not leave them there, and turn away
Another victim of abuse 
"The system" there is no excuse 
So hang your sorry head in shame
Admit that you were too to blame
You left him there to die alone
Hell for him, was in his home 
You listened to his parents lies 
But missed the truth within his eyes

Ian Duquemin

Image : Pixabay - geralt

Sons - Richard Fleming

On a yellowed flyleaf, half a century ago,
my mother wrote to say Birthday Wishes
and Mum, that name that buries self away.
I was her firstborn, headstrong, loving,
exuberant, wilfully astray.
My childhood fears, unbidden tears,
the small, lost battles of the day,
she dissipated in her arms.
My daughter holds her sons that way.

Richard Fleming

Image : Pixabay - VaniaRaposo

Belief - Tony Gardner

Tim  was  only  6  years  old
But he'd  heard  schoolfriends  say
That  Father  Christmas  wasn't  real
And  didn't  drive  a   sleigh.
That  Rudolph  was a  fairy  tale
Elves,  just   imagination
But  Timmy  knew  that  they  were  wrong
And  he  had  confirmation
For  just  last  year  he'd  seen  them  all
The  reindeer  and  the  elf
He'd  sat  on  Santa's  lap  and  asked
For  more  than  just  himself.
He  asked  that  Mum and  Dad  might  stop
The  arguing  and  fighting
And  be  just  as  they  used  to  be
Loving  and   inspiring
Santa  heard, and  so   this  year
Is  beautiful and  gay
So   Tim  believes  in  Santa  Claus
No  matter  what  they  say.

Tony Gardner


Image : Pixabay - mohamed_hassan

It’s Irksome - Diana Pritchard

this shadow that follows
cancels out my moves
taunts and teases
traces my extremities
from my nose to my toes
making out that I lie
like poor Pinocchio
I’m no Narcissus
seeking self-reflection
I have no beauty
but see my ageing mother
in all the windows
so have no need of shadow.

Diana Pritchard

This is an Ekphrastic poem based on a painting of an Indonesian Shadow Puppet - Kresna, Wayang Kulit Purwa, Central Java.

Image : Nurmalinda Maharfar Wikipedia