ArkquainSyllablic: 1/2/3/4 5/7/7/5 4/3/2/1The two 7-syllable lines, must use end rhyme.Poetry Forms one'notherand then morebring warm fuzziesfrom far away lands--U.S, U.K, New Zealand,Spain, Greece, Belize, and Finlandjubilant treasurescome to remindit's Christmas'round theworld ***…
The poem in this post is the basis for the Christmas carol "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." I hope you enjoy knowing the backstory. May Peace and Goodwill prevail.
The lovely prompt from dVerse gave rise to this 44 word poem. See what you think and happy holidays to you.
The country that raised me boasted of one season throughout the year, but perhaps it was because we wished for snow so much, but at Christmas time, we often pulled out sweaters to ward off the chill. And mother read us stories of Christmases in cold countries. Hope you enjoy these from Librivox.
All Rights Reserved © Selma Martin 2021 Folklore inspired by a grasshopper that landed on my head. A red-legged, pale grasshopper, her life’s purpose completed, came to say ‘sayonara’ to me, and I saw beauty in the encounter: how beautiful this cycle accepted with reverence. May we learn more from these fragile creatures whose offspring we'll see in the summer.
These things I remember, and I remember them well: Father brought us white Christmases to revel and to boast, and Mother brought us Christmases to last forever.
Collaborating with Experiments in Fiction Website, where exists a bodega of chilling posts that would otherwise be roaming the blogger-sphere like zombies. Join in for the festive sonnet bonanza you will not soon forget.
Read at your own risk: This nightmare is still roaming the universe. Please try not to catch it. Halloween scare.
Pouring my heart out and wishing a Happy Birthday to my daddy who's snug safely in my heart, and to who I dedicate this poem around All Hallows' Eve when we remember our dearly departed ones.
In Belize, there is only one season. Hot. And when that’s all you know about you do not complain. I never complained. Never. But, as I got older I became curious when at the end of the year I started noticing a pattern. First came the migrating birds and shortly after the migrating tourists. They landed on our shores; their pale faces a sure indication that they weren’t getting enough sun.
Blessed be the season. For someone who grew up with very little material possessions, and for who 'the smell of apples' still brings memories of Christmas, the carols, quotes, and poems continue to be an integral part of 'The Season.' Enjoy a selection of quotes that speak to me. Blessings on your quiet celebrations. Pay it forward.
What were your childhood Christmases like? Read about the follies of someone who had never seen a White Christmas. Nostalgic remembrances of how Father brought her and her siblings a white Christmas, and how Mother added a deeper layer of meaning.