It’s Christmas time again and although this might be a time for the children, have never wondered how the presents manage to find their way under your tree?
Well Santa’s secret and often mischievous helpers perform the ‘magic’ of bringing Christmas alive for everyone.
This is just if their poetic stories as you prepare for Christmas again this year (2024).
“The Naughty Elves”
On a Saturday night
The expectant darkness arrives
A small army will dim their light
As among the shadows they hide
Amid the needles, among the stitches
They weave their magical ways
Creating clothes that make you itch
So you’ll scratch for days and days
They will chuckle, and they will laugh
As they plan their next scheme;
A pair of socks to pinch your calf?
And toothpaste that is actually whipped cream?
The Naughty Elves work with a wicked grin;
They busy themselves with tricks
Testing the toys they make a din
By banging the handmade drumsticks!
Helping out Santa is their aim
That’s what he would like to think
There’s only one group left to blame
The Elves that make a right stink
Santa looks at them with a long sad face
The Elves withhold their snigger
When Santa begins to laugh, they embrace
Their smiles get bigger and bigger…
So it’s off to the sleigh for a night-time view
The naughty Elves have worked really hard
Coming soon to a house near you
The handmade Elves Christmas card..
This is one of the 25 “Poems for the Festive Season” available as an E-Book on Amazon
It’s starts slowly, builds momentum, showers the sky with its aura, as the power fades, so do you (but we still remember the ‘sparkle’)
Having been to a firework display earlier today, it got me thinking as I watched in absolute spectacular wonder, as this unbridled free spirited fireworks joyfully peppered the black night sky, with its myriad of colours, attracting thousands of eyes, glued looking upward, transfixed at this annual spectacle.
Here’s my two pennies worth..
A quiet rumble that cannot be heard,
Begins without us knowing,
Friction generates movement all around
We watch in awe and wonder, where is this going?
A sudden expected spark
Explodes in front of your startled eyes
Unbridled power exudes forth
What we witness, shouldn’t be a surprise
Now the embryo births into life
Momentum propels growth ahead
We await the true sparkle
When we now see the ‘head’
Crying and tears hit our ears
Into the night, life crashes into the open, vibrant air
The firework makes its dramatic, memorable appearance
Staring in awe, we are consumed by care
As the pops, bangs and whistles perform
Enigmatic, joyous smiles are displayed
Illuminous greens, reds and silver shine bright
The fireworks, like all things, then begin to fade
Colours and energy shoot into time
For some, this is your journey, for now
Your aura transcends; emboldens others
That sparkle flickers; before it takes a bow
Memories of the sounds that you heard
Picture the shapes, the splendid wonder you recall
Imagine the plaintive beauty that existed
See for yourself, the magic of it all
No tricks to play here
Reality with a slice stunning, awesomeness
Cracking sounds, booms of active life abound
Enjoyment, contentment, is what we seek, I must confess
To witness a display of such freedom, liberty
Makes the eyes dance to life’s rhythmic beats
To the sounds of crackling, streaming, cheering
Knowing all too well; this is a Fireworks life; on repeat…
For protection many will seek only the people or the process close to home. The ones you can trust. In effect you have to put yourself in a ‘bubble’ to keep out the ‘rays of destruction’ firing at you from all angles.
Well being is touted often and maybe in some people’s eyes far too often. Yet everyone has the propensity to ‘suffer’ from any type of instability. As it’s such a personal journey what affects one person is water if a ducks back to someone else. Still you treat each case as necessary. Maybe little little ditty reminds us all that it could be ‘me’ next or at some point in the future.
The Bubble
Something isn’t quite right
I cannot tell you what;
Tormenting me all day and night
Like that buzzing fly, I need to swat
I rack my torrid, fragile brain
Hoping to find some respite
No umbrella nearby and here comes the rain
A creeping darkness now envelopes the light
How do I get break free?
What help can I seek?
Is the answer; a glass of vodka martini?
Or will someone listen, as my words leak
Being in a bubble keeps you sane
Locked inside a delirium of fantasy and awe
The next addiction is sweet like sugar cane
A damaged mind plays tricks and is never a bore
As I sit here and ponder the winding route
Of where to plunder next;
Where is the map of support I can salute?
You can send that to me by text
I can read it, and will probably weep
My eyes, heart, filled with trepidation
Out of my skin my words begin to seep
Please defibrillate me into resuscitation
With a heavy, laden load I submit
Over to you to pick me up
I hope you’ll never ever quit
Lead me to once again, to drink from the ‘happy’ cup
On a random sunny afternoon, sometimes thoughts, ideas, musings from the past, present and future merge as you look skyward. The deepest blue sky and potent yellowy sun start to speak to you in rhyme. So you close your eyes and respond in kind…maybe with something like this…
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