Three Snake Skins


English: Santa Claus with a little girl Espera...
English: Santa Claus with a little girl Esperanto: Patro Kristnasko kaj malgranda knabino Suomi: Joulupukki ja pieni tyttö (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Three Snake Skins

 

I counted my presents under the tree

 

I had been generous but only to me

 

It was Christmas Eve and the night was deep

 

My eyelids grew heavy and I fell asleep.

 

 

 

In a dream I couldn’t believe my eyes

 

The world was in for a surprise

 

Christmas would be different this year

 

The sleigh wouldn’t be pulled by deer.

 

 

 

I needed to be good for goodness sakes

 

For Santa’s sleigh was pulled by snakes

 

Diamondbacks, boas, asps, and kings,

 

Flying through the air without any wings.

 

 

 

Down the rooftop they’d slide until they flopped

 

Slithering and wiggling, down the chimney they dropped!

 

One snake per child who had ever been bad,

 

Two snakes for mom and three for dear dad.

 

 

 

The snakes gathered to map out a plan

 

Something bizarre, something evil and grand.

 

People with possessions who didn’t share

 

Were bitten by serpents that didn’t care.

 

 

 

There was a list and it was checked twice

 

To determine who had been naughty or nice.

 

There weren’t many households left alone

 

For greed had turned many hearts to stone.

 

 

 

I awoke from my dream all drenched and wet

 

I had many memories I wished to forget

 

The beggar on the corner I couldn’t look in the eye

 

The family in my neighborhood I simply passed by.

 

 

 

There were incidents my conscience couldn’t ignore

 

This dream had touched me clear to the core

 

I vowed to give clothes and food to those in need

 

And to be more generous in word and deed.

 

 

 

Under my Christmas tree there were no presents to myself

 

But I cleared a space for gifts to others on a shelf

 

This year I was greedy but I’ll be prepared next year

 

Santa will be generous and my conscience will be clear.

 

 

 

I heard bells jingle as the sleigh took flight

 

And I knew that this would be a normal night

 

Eight tiny reindeer were pulling the sleigh

 

And Rudolph was in front leading the way.

 

 

 

I know this was just one of many dreams

 

You might think I made it worse than it seems

 

But I’ve changed my heart and I’m starting again

 

For under my bed I found three snake skins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas


English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of...
English: A postcard from 1919, with artwork of Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

We’re Lucky to Have Christmas

 

Time stood still and my heart stopped,

 

When she announced she was leaving that night.

 

It didn’t sink in that she meant what she said,

 

Until she got on the very next flight.

 

 

 

I think of the time I wasted,

 

Letting it slowly slip through my hands.

 

I could have been loving her,

 

Rather than complaining and giving commands.

 

 

 

She promised she would love me forever.

 

I think she intended it to be true.

 

I said I could survive on my own

 

But deep within my heart I knew.

 

 

 

I could have used time in segments,

 

Dinner for two, flowers, a loving glance,

 

Instead I spent time on my own interests,

 

And time didn’t give a second chance.

 

 

 

It was the season to laugh and be jolly

 

And the time to play in the snow.

 

But it was a sad time for me that year.

 

She wouldn’t be under the mistletoe.

 

 

 

We wouldn’t be watching a parade together,

 

From the very first float to the last.

 

I made many mistakes along the way.

 

And now our parade had gone past.

 

 

 

She talked about having quality time,

 

And times we could just hang out.

 

I insisted she was my very best friend.

 

But I gave her many reasons to doubt.

 

 

 

The Christmas lights in that bar were blurry,

 

The drinks were making me cry.

 

I hadn’t told her how much I loved her,

 

Yet I knew I was a lucky guy.

 

 

 

I was ready to go home and decide what to do.

 

I needed some time to think.

 

I heard a voice calling my name,

 

Then, “Cowboy, can I buy you a drink?”

 

 

 

I’ve never seen a face more beautiful.

 

She had returned and was smiling at me.

 

Now I’m a reformed and loving man.

 

I’m sure that’s the way it should be.

 

 

 

That’s my Christmas story,

 

I hope you take a moment to pause.

 

If she hadn’t returned there wouldn’t be Christmas.

 

If you don’t believe what I told you,

 

Just ask my wife, Mrs. Claus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Learning to Take Charge


Ice cream at Expo 2010
Ice cream at Expo 2010 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Learning to Take Charge

 

“I want some ice cream,” the little girl said.

 

“No, it’s late and time for bed.”

 

“Can I watch t.v. for a little while?”

 

“O.k.,” said mom, “because you asked with a smile.”

 

The girl sat on the floor waiting for the news to end.

 

Dad sat down and waited for his program to begin.

 

“Why are you still up?” he asked the apple of his eye.

 

“Mom said I could watch a show or two,

 

But now that you’re here, I guess it’s up to you.”

 

“Could I have ice cream?” the little girl said.

 

“Sure, since you’re up.  Then it’s straight to bed.”

 

Mom returns after a long hot shower.

 

“Why is she up,” mom snaps, “at this late hour?”

 

There is little worse than righteous condemnation,

 

Especially since both contributed to the situation.

 

They go to battle because their rules aren’t applied.

 

The little girl learns to manipulate as time goes by.

 

Their friends choose sides and blame the father or the mother,

 

While the little girl plays one against the other.

 

She’ll be in charge when she becomes a teen,

 

But someday she’ll discover she’s not a real queen.

 

 

 

Nothing More


English: Wind Turbines located outside of Palm...
English: Wind Turbines located outside of Palm Springs, CA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Nothing More

 

Who is that walking past my door?

 

It is the wind and nothing more.

 

For a moment a shadow hesitates,

 

Then it goes on and through the gate.

 

Who is whispering outside this wall?

 

I’m sure if I looked I’d see nothing at all.

 

Is there a person playing a mean trick?

 

Doesn’t he know I could be really sick?

 

I’m holding my breath within this cell.

 

The shadow is back and I know him well.

 

Around this bed my friends gather and talk.

 

They remember how we used to walk.

 

All voices hush as someone passes the door.

 

I thought, It is the wind and nothing more.

 

My friends are leaving with tears in their eyes.

 

I’m puzzled and ask, “What’s the matter, guys?”

 

But they ignore me as they go out the door.

 

One said, “It is the wind and nothing more.”

 

I don’t understand this turn of events.

 

I’ve tried to comprehend but it doesn’t make sense.

 

I turn to my new friend as we go out the door.

 

I ask, “Is it really the wind and nothing more?”

 

“Your friends are mistakenly blaming the wind.

 

But their way of thinking will come to an end.

 

Some will greet me as I enter their room.

 

Others will panic at my voice of doom.

 

You heard me walking past your door.

 

I enter with the wind, but I’m much, much more.

 

 

 

A Bee’s Night Before Christmas


Cover of "Bees (Denver Museum Insect Book...
Cover of Bees (Denver Museum Insect Books)

 

A Bee’s Night Before Christmas

 

It was the night before Christmas

 

And all through the hive

 

Bees were clustered together

 

Keeping warm and alive.

 

 

 

Three pairs of stockings

 

Were glued up for each bee

 

In the hopes that Santa

 

Would put gifts under a tree.

 

 

 

Each young bee was snuggled

 

Way deep in her cell

 

Dreaming of a honey flow

 

That the older bees knew well.

 

 

 

The queen was in her chamber

 

Guard bees sleeping close by

 

All of them as excited about Christmas

 

As a swarm on the fly.

 

 

 

The night was clear

 

The new moon was bright

 

Everyone knew for certain

 

Santa would be there that night.

 

 

 

When up on the roof

 

There rose such a clatter

 

The queen went with the guards

 

To see what was the matter.

 

 

 

On the roof they could see

 

A sleigh full of toys

 

Most of them for workers

 

Only one or two for the boys.

 

 

 

Eight bumblebees had been pulling

 

They made it look hard

 

Would Santa have the time

 

To reach each bee yard?

 

 

 

The driver’s face was red

 

From the cold (I suppose)

 

And icicles hung down

 

From the tip of her nose.

 

 

 

Her eyes were coal black

 

Her mouth made for smiles

 

She looked a little weary

 

She had traveled for miles.

 

 

 

Her coat was real thick

 

Made to keep her warm

 

Her wings were slightly tattered

 

From a late summer swarm.

 

 

 

She was quick as she placed gifts

 

Near where each bee lay

 

Then she pulled a beautiful tree

 

From off of her sleigh.

 

 

 

With a wink she said,

 

“These bumblebees are tired.

 

I’m looking for workers

 

Who want to be hired.”

 

 

 

Six volunteers jumped up

 

(they refused any money)

 

So she promised they’d receive

 

Extra stores of honey.

 

 

 

They darted out of the hive

 

And while they were in sight

 

Santa Bee buzzed, “A golden Christmas to all,

 

And to all a good night!”

 

 

 

Over almond orchards and clover

 

They flew on their way

 

They finished their task

 

Before Christmas Day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Honey Bee


Queen bee 3
Queen bee 3 (Photo credit: quisnovus)

 

Honey Bee

 

He slowly approached the bee hives,

 

Observing the endless streams of flight.

 

The honey bees deserved his attention,

 

But he wondered, What is she doing tonight?

 

 

 

He put on his hat and accompanying veil,

 

To provide protection from stings to his face.

 

He lit up his smoker and then eased it down.

 

Would I be welcome if I stopped by her place?

 

 

 

Prying open a lid he sent in a few puffs of smoke.

 

The bees calmed down and moved away,

 

While he checked each frame for the queen.

 

What could I bring to brighten her day?

 

 

 

The queen was perfect, undamaged and full.

 

In the summer this hive would be strong.

 

There would be supers of golden honey.

 

 He’d get sweet rewards if nothing went wrong.

 

 

 

As he carefully reassembled the frames,

 

One worker flew out and stung his wrist,

 

Was that a portent of things to come?

 

Would he be crossed from her list?

 

 

 

As he worked through the remaining  hives,

 

He was distracted by a disturbing thought.

 

If he was determined, would love find a way?

 

Because she was well worth any battles fought.

 

 

 

In his beat-up car he sped wearily to her house,

 

Hoping he could see her without being seen.

 

On her porch he would leave a bottle of honey,

 

With a note saying, TO MY QUEEN.

 

 

 

Plans concerning love can sometimes go awry.

 

Honeyed words often remain frozen on lovers’ lips,

 

And love not claimed can be lost for all time,

 

Sailing swiftly away like a phantom ship.

 

 

 

In front of her house he parked his car,

 

And placed the honey up on her porch.

 

Before he could leave she raced outside.

 

He wasn’t the only one carrying a torch.

 

 

 

She was perfect, just right for his queen.

 

Ripe and willing, she was waiting for her king.

 

Their future was golden and offered sweet rewards.

 

Though they had little, they had everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life’s Mirror


An illustration from page 30 of Mjallhvít (Sno...
An illustration from page 30 of Mjallhvít (Snow White) an 1852 icelandic translation of the Grimm-version fairytale (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Life’s Mirror Is a Friend or Two

 

“You’re incompetent!” he screamed as he sat in his chair,

 

But, oh, how he wished that mirror wasn’t there.

 

He wanted to look regal perched on a throne,

 

But that was impossible when his friends were gone.

 

Tears splashed down his cheeks

 

As he stared up into the sky,

 

“How can my friends show respect

 

To such a fool as I?

 

Throughout my life there was much,

 

I wanted to say and do,

 

I wanted to be a good Samaritan,

 

I’d help someone, it didn’t matter who.

 

I thought I’d take trips to exotic  places

 

But I chose to work instead,

 

By then I had a growing family,

 

and the children needed bread.

 

How can I prove I’m a cultured man?

 

I haven’t traveled very far,

 

All my knowledge is about small town folks,

 

I never claimed to be a star.

 

I thought I’d try to be an example

 

Of how a man should be,

 

But I’ve failed every time with even my best,

 

Because all you get is me.”

 

 

 

He had been confessing to a mirror,

 

That he’d failed every worldly task,

 

“What’s wrong?” I ventured through the open door,

 

Yet I had no need to ask,

 

The old man was surprised to see someone he knew,

 

I considered myself a friend,

 

“I’ve been listening for quite some time,

 

Your self pity needs to end.

 

You’ve raised five kids all alone,

 

You took that burden in stride,

 

I don’t know about the rest of your friends,

 

But I think of you with pride.

 

You coached several teams in summer leagues,

 

You taught some kids to drive,

 

You were there to greet strangers,

 

When they were anxious and newly arrived.

 

You helped families who lost their homes,

 

Or anyone out of luck,

 

Even when you were stretched real thin,

 

Somehow you found a few bucks.

 

You might think you did things wrong,

 

I think you did things right,

 

There’s a crowd gathering in the dark,

 

Could I welcome them in with the light?”

 

One single line came through the door

 

and seemed to stretch for miles.

 

Each person had something good to say,

 

and ended their comments with a smile.

 

“We wanted you to know we learned from you,

 

We always knew your love was wide.

 

All the love we have for you

 

We can no longer keep inside.”

 

The old man’s eyes grew large and dark,

 

He glanced around the hall,

 

“Thank you, my friends, for loving me,

 

For you know I love you all.”

 

He shook the hands of all and each,

 

It filled his heart with pride,

 

Then because he had been deeply touched,

 

He lowered his head and cried.

 

 

 

Nowhere on Earth


The Earth seen from Apollo 17.
The Earth seen from Apollo 17. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Nowhere on Earth

 

From the first time I saw her,

 

I thought she was beautiful.

 

Her eyes held flecks of green,

 

They mesmerized me.

 

And her innocence hid behind,

 

A smile that lit up the sky.

 

Who was I to know,

 

What was waiting around the bend.

 

Sweet kisses sealed an agreement,

 

Unspoken at first,

 

And hugs became more demanding,

 

Unsatisfied with mere warmth,

 

Until the night passion met passion,

 

And needs and desires were met.

 

I felt no shame in what we did,

 

Strong feelings had turned into love,

 

And we claimed each other.

 

She became even more beautiful,

 

Because she carried my child.

 

We had a secret,

 

We were waiting to tell the world.

 

Then one day she was gone.

 

Her family refused to talk about her.

 

Her absence left a hole in my heart,

 

Only she could fill.

 

She had disappeared completely,

 

Ready to give birth,

 

Nowhere on Earth.

 

One year later I saw her again,

 

More beautiful than ever,

 

In her arms she carried my child.

 

Our features were evident,

 

Our child displaying the best of both,

 

Eyes with flecks of green,

 

My human skin,

 

Her big green smile,

 

All was there,

 

Perhaps our child would be taunted,

 

Or maybe even beaten,

 

Because she was different.

 

Our child was beautiful,

 

Carried by her mother,

 

Adored by her father,

 

Two worlds unified in peace and war,

 

The first to cross over,

 

The first of her kind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Senses


Senses Working Overtime
Senses Working Overtime (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Senses

When I was a baby I wanted to taste,

Dirt, grass, leaves; everything was good,

Through the sense of taste my world I understood.

 

As a young lad I wanted to feel,

The bark of trees, warm human skin,

Everything needed to be touched again and again.

 

During my youth, color surrounded me,

And I trusted my eyesight more each day,

The world’s vibrant displays becoming richer in every way.

 

Nature’s music played softly in my ear,

I listened and heard it all, crystal clear as a bell,

My mother’s heartbeat, birds singing, frogs croaking as well.

 

Roses and violets, the air after a rain,

I detected subtle aromas as my experiences grew,

The earth offered me choices to smell, exciting and new.

 

Never did I want to take my senses for granted,

The world was a puzzle and each sense played a part,

They helped unravel mysteries from both brain and heart.

 

All five senses keep me standing in reality,

Yet without them my dark empty world would still spin,

For I keep hope, love, and compassion locked deep within.

 

Senses are my guides for exploring the world,

They lead me down paths and open closed doors,

Fill my coffers with treasures and give memories forevermore.

 

 

 

 

If Your Heart


If Your Heart Was a Door

 

If your mind was a book, I’d read it,

 

Turning page after page, absorbing every word,

 

Hoping the most exciting chapters included me,

 

If your eyes were deep pools, I’d dive in them,

 

Splashing around like an otter, enjoying every moment,

 

Swimming in circles of love to be noticed by you,

 

If your lips were berries, I’d taste them,

 

Remembering the warmth of our summer passion,

 

Savoring the richness of your tender kisses,

 

If your breasts were two trees, I’d fly to them,

 

Settling in the branches, finding comfort and peace,

 

Forgetting for awhile all the troubles of the world,

 

If your heart was a door, I’d open it with sincere words,

 

Sharing my world, my life, my heart, and my love,

 

Wanting my time with you to last forever.

 

Love heart uidaodjsdsew
Love heart uidaodjsdsew (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

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