“Embracing Winter’s Magic”

Christmas 2011. My house.

Christmas 2011. My house.

December sneaks into the year
quietly
lost in the shuffle
of Black Friday
of Small Business Saturday
of Cyber Monday
and all the hoopla that follows.

December comes without warning
and I’m not yet ready
to think of tinsel
of glittering ornaments
and sparkling lights
of ribbons and bows and wrapping.

December settles in
and I’m waiting for the snow
which used to herald
winter’s arrival
and prepared me for the season
but it hasn’t come.

December won’t wait for me
to catch on
to catch up
to be ready for the holidays
and so I haul out boxes
put up lights and garland
ornaments on trees, candles in windows
and begin to play winter carols.

December smiles
as my heart opens
illuminated by each sparkling light
each flickering candle
my soul swaddled by familiar strains
surrounding me in holiday cheer.

December always comes
and finds me a Grinch
a sad, solemn Scrooge
who has forgotten the magic I perpetually seek
but it only takes a ritual
enacted each year
to reclaim the twinkle and sparkle
to renew my soul and my heart
embracing Winter’s magic.


More or less inspired by the prompt at Poets United, which asks us to write about a Scrooge. Most years, I start out the season a bit of a Scrooge, but I always find the magic again.

“Possible”

It’s possible
that the words you read
are the truth, the whole truth
nothing but the truth
(so help me Goddess)

It’s possible
that I am that good
that my ability to spin
goes beyond alpaca and wool
into imagined emotion and fabricated fantasy yarns

It’s possible
that I slice open my veins
allow them to ooze, to drip
that I willingly bare my soul
completely exposed to you in these pages

It’s possible
that this is all half-truths
creations of a chaotic mind
little more than indulgences into a world
I wish existed

Any of this is possible
because writers weave worlds with words
we provide possibilities, propose new perceptions
illuminate the (fifty?) shades of grey between
what is and what cannot be.
You can read what you like in these words
make any assumptions
come to conclusions fallacious or not.
I will simply continue
to provide the impossible
and make it seem possible.


A combination of several prompts today. First, the Fourth Wall challenge from Kerry at With Real Toads. Also, Theme Thursday gave us ‘possibilities’ this week. Lastly, Poets United’s Wonder Wednesday was ‘shades of grey’.

“Red”

Stalking
The beast prowls the verdant forest
Footfalls almost silent
Almost

Crimson cloaked
Humming a lilting melody
Unaware
Inviting danger from the gloom

She dares to speak
Invites the wolf’s approach
Guileless in her curiosity

Scarlet mantle
Vivid in the dim forest
A testament to life

His hunger mounts
Arousing
Inflaming
Her presence stimulating his need

He chooses his time
Waiting
For the moment to be ripe
Charming her chaste heart


This piece was spawned after reading the Wonder?? Wednesday prompt at Poets United, which led me back to a previous challenge at With Real Toads.

“The Persistence of Memory”

Salvador Dali - The Persistence of Memory

Contrary to popular culture
memories cannot be erased.
You cannot simply wipe a presence
from your mind.
It is not possible to delete
your past.

The things you have done
the people you’ve known
the places you’ve been
are all a part of you.

Therefore don’t seek to remove
your history.
Don’t wish you could un-remember.
Instead hold onto those things
which built your foundation.
Allow them to strengthen where you
now stand.
Invite them to persist into
an uncertain future.


Poets United’s Think Tank Thursday this week pays homage to Salvador Dali, whose most famous painting inspired this poem.

“Breeding Contempt”

We sit in our familiar places,
speaking of our usual things,
leading ordinary lives.
Moments of extraordinary passion
are rare and far between.
Love assured yet uninspired
follows a predictable path.
There is no time for
‘happily ever after’ here
There will be no fairy tale ending.


This week Poets United Vice-Versa prompt was follow/lead & usual/rare.

“Midway”

I want you to take me to the carnival. I want
to stand at your side as you win me a giant
stuffed turtle. I want to squeal with delight as
you hurl darts into balloons, or swing a
sledgehammer and ring a bell. I know you can.

I want to wander the midway, arm in arm
and drag you over to the fried dough cart,
bouncing on my toes as I plead for a piece.

I want to sit astride a brightly painted
carousel horse with you standing at my side;
and maybe, just maybe, you’ll climb onto the
horse beside me, and see what all the fuss
is about.

I want you to drag me onto a roller coaster,
even though I fear their speed. I want to scream
and clutch to you as we loop and turn. I want
to stumble away giggling, glaring at you
for making me ride, but secretly, I’ll thank you.

I want to explore every inch of the grounds
then sneak off to a quiet corner, fingers
twined with yours. I want to steal a kiss, then
another, and bask in the glow of the carnival
lights with you.


Over at Poets United we’ve been treated with an interview with the artist Fabiola D’Antuono. To go along with this, they have asked us to write about a carnival for Think Tank Thursday.

“Fluff”

Fluff

rumors linger in the air like dandelion fluff
caught on the wind, trivial bits of nothing suspended
alone, they are nothing, barely observed
but in clouds driven from the fields
they become significant, weighty
they grow meaning as the fluff one day grows weeds
impossible to ignore until plucked from the ground
and tossed away to the compost pile


Written as a response to Poets United’s Vice Versa prompt.