'Twas the Night Before Christmas - Dr. Clement Clark Moore

'Twas Dr. Clement Clark Moore that named the traditional reindeer in this poem which helped create our modern day "traditional" Christmas.

Can you name all the reindeer before you watch the video?

No you will not find Rudolph there. Rudolph was actually created for an advertising campaign in Chicago during the 1930's.

This is a lovely rendition of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas.

Enjoy.

Merry Christmas!

End of a Dog

I want to ease your pain
Never more, you'll run again.
Those tired old eyes.
Your long sad sighs.
You stumble on our walk,
I look and see that familiar stare,
Yet I know the puppy is no longer there.

And when your head lies down to rest.
I know I did my best.
For eighteen years you were my guide
Then With a nod your old heart died.
Now forever in memory true,
Nothing left for me of you.

No rattle of trotting claw
No scratching of the door.
No sad goodbye morning bark.
No cheery yapping at the park.
Only silence fills my day.
Since the morn you went away.
My heart breaks  for you
For so long you were true
Now there is nothing here of you.

In Flanders Fields - Lt Col Dr. John McCrae

As

Something Blastoma... A Poem of Cancer Diagnosis

In recent months I have had a roller coaster ride of emotions.

Last December I had what I thought was a bad cold and Bronchitis. Following a Chest X-Ray and other tests giving results from "Valley Fever" ( a nasty fungal lung infection) this would be my first time. I got a even nastier diagnosis from a doctor. Lung Cancer.

Though the doctor was not sure of the result for certain. He came up with a stunning piece of news. I will tell you now though that I am not taking this doctors word, and have made arrangements for a second opinion in a few days.

But that is by the by.

The news was a shock. As with many traumatic events. I was moved to write a poem. "Something Blastoma..." is the result.

To read Something Blastoma... A Poem CLICK HERE.

Memorial Day

Hunched he stands,
Head hung low.
Above the sound,
Jets fly low.
An old man , no place to go.

Above the sky,
Of Truest Blue.
Whiteness Red stained,
For you and me.

The flag,
Unfolds upon the breeze.

As he stands,
'Neath the trees.

Beneath his feet,
A friend or son.
Who gave his all
For Everyone.

If peace shall come our way,
Let us not forget
The Cost
Of Memorial Day.

That Certain Smile

That certain smile
No time can take.
Within my heart,
You'll never break.

Those shining eyes
Hold no surprise.
O'er your shoulder glance
Make my heart dance.

Your soft blonde curls
My fingers trace.
Love is always
On your face.

In angers fire,
Another desire.
In lovers light
We do not fight.

My heart grows near,
You lend your ear.
I whisper of love,
My turtle dove.

Sing just for me,
From you so free.
I give all I have
To be with thee.

Darker than Night- A Poem of Blindness

Darkness comes,
From sudden light.
Darker now than darkest night.
Nowhere for me to fly,
Why should I not lie?
Who knows what to say?
Who would care for more today?

Love is blind,
Or so They say.
Justice blind,
So why I pray?
God took away your sight,
So that you might see the light.
How cruel to blame,
My God!
Who are you?
What am I to do?
Pause and wait in silent prayer,
Someone out there really does care.
Hold my hand for all beware.
Now I am atop the stair.

Broken Valentine

In class we'd talk of themes,
You'd never hear my dreams.
Talk of how Brooke's Soldier dies,
Of Owen's guttering lies.

Then trembling in the halls,
I'd wait until the bell calls.
Wait in trembling fear
Would you even be here?

Then in answer to its ring,
Then my heart began to sing.
There you are my dazzling blonde.
Whom my heart will always be fond.

In your eyes of shining blue.
Love for me I will see.
Take from my hand,
This card of Love on your dresser to stand.
"
What is this?"

I hear that laugh.


Then a moments sad sigh,
Card in hand you pass me by.
To the waste bin you do toss.
My heart for a loss.

Strike me for a fool,
Gave my heart for you to rule.
When in times anew,
Someone else will e'er be true.

Four Seasons: To My Wife

You make Angels in the snow,
"It's Cold Don't ya' know?"
You laugh and throw,
A snowball at my toe.

I love you more and more,
When wind and rain do roar.
The warming of the days,
Beings light to your face.

In Spring I hear you sing,
Watching swallows on the wing.
You hold me in your arms
Share all your charms.

With the Summer's fire,
You do inspire.
We walk along the beach,
Now you chase, but just out of reach.

Then when the world goes brown,
You never wear a frown.
Oh my darling wife,
Each year you bring light to my life.

First World War Poetry

As Wilfred Owen wrote in the introduction to his anthology of First World War poetry, published shortly before his death in 1918. "There is no poetry in war, only pity, and the poetry is in the pity."

This is a wonderful collection of the greatest poetry from World War I. Among the poets are the aforementioned Owen, Robert Graves, Siegfried Sassoon, Rupert Brook and  Rudyard Kipling.

This anthology brings together the patriotic, the heroic and the tragic face of war poetry.

I cannot say it is beautiful, much of the poetry is hard and ripped by the struggle of life in the trenches of France and Flanders, but it does tear your heart with the pity of it all. And as Owen said, there lies the poetry.

In Darkness

In darkness do I wander,
searching for? I wonder?
For the dearest love to ponder,
Are you there? Lover or a bounder?

To steal my heart? I wonder
Or break my heart assunder.
Love me now and tender,
For your love is a wonder.

Dance with me a polka,
As we did when younger.
Brush away this fever
My darling dancing Diva.

Blindness: A Haiku

Bright, Blackness, Taps along.

Touching faces seeing no more.

Grey ghosts file by. Blind.

A Short Story of the Apocolypse

Popalotl is a mason of the highest order. No-one in the Mayan world can carve stone like he can.

He takes pride in his work and the High Priest of the Temple of the Sun knows where to go when he needs five great calendars for the new Temple of the Sun.

Popalotl knows his work will receive acclaim for eternity. Taking a break at the end of a long week Popalotl ...

To read the story of how the Mayan Calendar comes to show the end of the world in December 2012, CLICK HERE

Memories of Hope

A rose red sky,
Here you lie.
No slumbering dreams
Your beauty seems
Fading now,
Your silken hair,
Takes my tear.

Cold are your eyes
As you gaze to the skies.
Faded now
The dream somehow
Where did you go?
Where I can not follow.
Once we walked the hill
Where I sit still.
Gazing o'er the distant shore.

Then under the rosen sky,
May I one day lie.
Feel the breeze
Beneath those trees.
Feel you near
Against my side.
And watch again the flowing tide.