Ok, so I lied…this one snuck in there and insisted to come play, so here it is. I hope you like it, and Merry Christmas/Holiday to everyone!
a child is born, to parents poor,
his cradle is a manger, small,
in stable dark beside the inn,
in wind that whistles through the wall.
yet at his birth, the heavens sing,
the glories of a stars bright light
eclipse the lanterns of the inn
and make the sky a beacon, bright
shepherds follow, drawn by light,
and angel voices singing sweet,
gifts they bring, a blanket warm,
the rhythm of a drums soft beat.
and from the East, the wiseman come,
men of learning, traveling far,
gifts they bring, to lay before
the glory born beneath the star.
and in the heavens, angels chorus
till all the world can hear the ring,
peace on earth and mercy mild,
and glory to the newborn king.
Meh and double-meh and other words of frustration. Once again I am esconced in a perfectly lovely rehab, for more work on my wounded leg…and all that is fine, other than spending Christmas away from home 😦 but it has complicated my already challenging work on Chapt. 50. Not that I am having trouble writing it…what I am having trouble with is -not- writing it. I’ve gone from a 2,000 word mess that wouldn’t gel…to a 4,000 word piece that won’t let me quit! Everyone in it wants their own say, and just keep pouring it into my brain and out my fingers, despite my grumbling, griping, and bitching. If it doesn’t settle down by this Friday, I’m giving up and letting someone else have it. I’ll keep my story, and y’all can read it to see what’s what…but as it stands now, it’s just too big and involved and…annoying. *sighs* I -really- need help with keeping things concise. Trouble is, my writing is, like my poetry, word pictures…and I hate to leave any corner empty. I mean…then people might miss an important detail! >.< I love you guys, and I’m really really sorry this has been so much trouble…and thank you -so- much for your patience. *hugs*
(*pouts* Dougs poems are uniquely shaped, some lines out, some under, etc. Unfortunately I don’t seem to have the tech./html knowledge to make WP do the formatting correctly, so we’ll just have to settle for this. 🙂 )
For Larry, the kids, the cats,
For our good times,
our awful times.
For the times when no castle built
could be big enough.
For the times when our tiny den
by the fire
is just right.
For the laughter, the learning,
the fighting and forgiving.
But especially for the love
while growing up together
under one roof.
The First Poem
Barefoot on warm sidewalks
I’ve hop scotched
through more than thirty summers
And thought that daffodils
invented the color yellow
for as many springs.
Up to my knees in leaves
till I’ve landed
in winters bed
to make angels in the snow.
So many things I’ve done and seen
in all my seasons
but Christmas Eve I found just once
in a pair of eyes.
From “Barefoot on Warm Sidewalks” by Doug Baldauf, c. 1975