Sunday, December 27, 2015

December 27, 2015 The Sunday Whirl-- The Night After Christmas/ Sunday's Whirligig/ Poets United -- Red Against White

Sunday's Whirligig and Poets United

Red Against White

room of her own                    make that studio                       kitchen

bedroom                                 a luxury                                    not given to everyone

the stream runs through it      thoughts                                    ideas and words

they belong to her                  cherry trees in full bloom          petals fall on to the snow

red against white                    it is not a fact                             just an idea

i am lured into the scene by the red       the red rope               which binds them

lovers holding hands              he pulls down a bough              for her to see

she ties a red ribbon into a bow        hung it in the tree            red against white

spring will come soon enough         the woodlands                  will come alive             

turn green                            offer shade                             i can find no reason for it all        

rains come                           streams overflow                   flood waters cut-short lives            

even on christmas day         or the day after                      it all seems so vicious                    

sweet ones die too soon       hearts broken                         red against white                           

pasted together with red       that is the scheme of things           i fear there is nothing else

December 26, 2015
The Sunday Whirl

The Night After Christmas
gathered around the fire                the tale will be told                    for many a year 
one after another will join in         adding one detail                       after another

recount all that happened              on that horrible night                 the telling always begins 
‘twas the night after christmas      the children were nestled           all snug in their beds

mama in her kerchief                     and i in my cap                         we had just settled down

for a long winter’s nap                   while visions of sugar plums    still danced in our heads
then the roof flew off                      with such a clatter                     i sprang from my bed

to see what was the matter              away to the window                 tore open the shutters

threw up the sash                            no moon                                    a starless night
the butter on the table                     was next to fly away                  one sentence

after another                               adding to the experience            little things remembered

gives one a chill                              the night was dark and rainy      eleven tornados

eleven killed                                    death and destruction                 everywhere

they said it all happened                  in thirty seconds                         hardly enough time

to run for safety                               to gather one’s thoughts             create a sentence

find connections                              we’ll try again next year             to tell the tale

remember what was lost                 find another ending             with a happy santa clause

December 27, 2015                       





humbird said...

' streams overflow ' ~ I feel these words differently today...we probably need to prepare some frames? for them, some roads....wish you peaceful New Year, Annell.

Old Egg said...

Summer, winter, spring or fall we are often touched by sadness while the world spins on uncaring. At least we poets can express our feelings with words hard though it is to write them.

Mimi Brad Pallin Henry Southworth said...