Sales and Santa sail
off to hidden storage bins;
how to keep that joy within?
~
Ah, and therein lies
the rub for we have to learn
to catch joy on the fly.
Sales and Santa sail
off to hidden storage bins;
how to keep that joy within?
~
Ah, and therein lies
the rub for we have to learn
to catch joy on the fly.
It’s the day AFTER
Christmas. Why haven’t the kids
gotten that sleep memo yet?
~
Alas, Boxing Day,
at least within this household,
is no day of servants’ rest.
After record warmth,
perhaps we should consider
spending Christmas down under?
~
I thought the whole point
of Christmas was to help us
avoid going down under.
It’s the night before
Christmas. Why haven’t the kids
gotten the memo on sleep?
~
You are so old school!
If you want those kids to sleep,
You must email, text, or tweet.
How can one protect
beloved family members
from so poorly misplaced trust?
~
We do our best through
love, vigilance, and prayer,
taking action when we must.
Ok, so there’s no
snow. Are we going to just
be left with those plain red cups?
~
Why go to and fro
over the absence of snow?
Candles set red cups aglow!
Today’s a Monday.
How can we make it stand out;
unlike every other day?
~
I know you can’t be
serious. Just ask any
single Mondayphobe.
If this is the most
wonderful time of year, what
does it say about the rest?
~
When superlatives
are used gratuitously
they lose all meaning.
Will our spirits rise;
lifted like all other boats
by the approaching Yuletide?
~
If our spirits are
to rise, we must learn to ride
the Yule’s irregular tide.
With only seven
days to go, how will we find
great, amazing gifts in time?
~
Most amazing gifts
seem to find there way to us
when we give up seeking them.
With this constant noise,
how can we find peace enough
to regain our poise?
~
When there’s noise without,
we can move within, follow
our breath, circumvent the din.
What ever happened
to heralded holiday
cheer this harried year?
~
I fear it’s been lost
behind emails and toupees
and rattlings of sabers.
When you rarely see
the light of day at your home,
can it be your guiding light?
~
Home fires beckon
and light the way even when
night replaces day.
What would you say if
Jolly Old Saint Nick
took the batmobile this year?
~
“Holy Ghost, Batman!
It Looks like your ride’s been swiped
by a bloated elf in red!”
When a timely passage
takes one from this mortal realm,
is there cause to celebrate?
~
When a life has been
well lived and the time ripe, there
may be cause to celebrate.
If someone hopes for
a small sprinkling of snow on
Christmas Eve are they reindeer?
~
Like snow and reindeer,
and men in jolly red suits,
all just holiday fodder.
Must our fleeting joy
Come only from successes
Or can we enjoy failures?
~
In retrospect we
might enjoy some failures like
not winning that scum ball’s heart.
Is it sheer folly
to look for some remnant of
jolly while grocery shopping?
~
But Jolly abounds
Up and down the aisles there.
Jolly Ranchers, Jolly Time,…
Why must we wallow
in all this borrowed sorrow
for events of tomorrow?
~
We’ve mistakenly
applied the scouts’ motto and
tried to be prepared.
As we watch them go,
arms outstretched and hearts breaking,
where do we turn for solace?
~
For solace we turn
to memory and happy
thoughts of their return.
If you were going
to take a guess, why do you
think we get so stressed?
~
We all feel the press,
keep them safe but let them go
knowing we have no control.
In this stressful time,
which pounds harder, anxious heart,
or nervous, disquiet mind?
~
One starts, the other
pounds harder in a frenzy
of fear-based disharmony.
What remarkable
human being’s birthday is
just four days away?
~
David Carradine?
Or Diego Rivera?
Or Jim Morrison?
When the flakes begin
to fly about recklessly,
where will we find safe harbor?
~
Flakes have been flying
high on tv news. To be
safe, grab the remote.
Now that December
is here, do you have any
words of lasting cheer?
~
This is the season,
to be filled with lasting cheer;
its more fun than lasting fear.
Chocolate calendars
counting down twenty-five days.
Is that what it’s all about?
~
Such sweet rituals
bring daily joy – heralding
a much larger joy to come.
Could writing poems
be our antidepressant
of choice when the times are rough?
~
That, and our downers
when euphoria erupts!
Like lyrical lithium.
Must we seek meaning
in the eyes of that Divine
lest we find despair?
~
Where love is present,
the eyes of the Divine shine
and banish despair.
Why do we mistake
human interpretations
for divine exhortations?
~
“Made in God’s image”
leads us to believe we see
through the Divine’s eyes.
Can we not wake up,
after all the gluttony ,
to some human compassion?
~
Perhaps we should start
with one simple intent – to
give as well as get.