Christmas Day

Christmas comes,

but once a year.

The house is filled

with warmth and cheer.

A heavenly scent

of  turkey and pie

Saturates the air;

Mmmm, oh my!

The gifts once wrapped

now litter the floor.

With glee and mirth

children scream for more.

The stockings are limp

and so are you

So cheer and rejoice

because now you are through!

Merry Christmas 

To one and all

From 

Katherine

at

A New Day!

A Christmas Toast

Over at One Stop Poetry today, there is a suggestion to write something to honour family at Christmas time. I started with a different thought, but this story of love and generousity was a part of my Christmas a few years ago. It took centre stage, so I let it have reign on my page. I share it to honour my husband and the love and respect that he elicited from all those he touched. Enjoy.

Christmas was upon me.
I could not smile or glee.
It had been mere months
since death had claimed thee.

I pushed myself to function.
I strained myself not to cry,
but my heart lie still in tatters
and I too wanted to die.

Your Co-workers refused to listen
when I tried to decline their cheer.
They insisted I join the revelry
and at their party must appear.

I had no choice, but compliance.
Wiped tears and donned false smiles.
Their hugs of joy were too worthy
for a girl far from love by miles.

We ate, drank and were merry.
Shared stories til speeches were nigh,
then sombre I grew, as attention they drew
to myself  ushered forth to their eyes.

Beautiful stories were issued.
Thoughtful memories were shared to enthrall,
then to my surprise a check materialized
in my name, for my family, from them all.

Speechless, I stood in front of them.
Mine eyes blinking back full disbelief.
How could they know how this touched me so
in my heart shattered still by so much grief.

Their pockets were emptied in your name.
Wealth was shared from men, coast to coast.
And here stood I, staring at nary a dry eye
Trembling as they called for a toast.

To Brad, was the shout from the tables.
To Brad, was  the feeling round the room.
My love, it was beauty at its finest
and their hearts were opened all just for you.

I shook as I raised glass in your name
Tears fell, uncheckered from my heart
They saw the special in you, that I also knew
Their gift, to give me a fresh start.

Your heart, I feel its presence
nearly every day.
Your heart, I know it beats
yet strong for me.

but on that blessed eve
your love's magic it did weave
and not alone was I that night
when I did leave.

    {}{}{}

Merry Christmas to all of you at One Stop
and all of you who have touched my heart over the years
You all help to keep me going & for that I am grateful. 
Blessings to you all.

The End of the (OSW) Year

A Christmas Poem

naw

hmmmm...


what then?

haiku for you

to read, analyze, and rate

against doting peers

well,

that doesn't thrill me

although it fits

cinquain
brave, artless
rhyming, scheming, plodding
this isn't going anywhere
poetry

Lord, this is the last OneShot for the year!
Pressures on...
here we go.


...
.....
The Christmas goose
and Christmas gander
just set loose
for a little wander
where to? they wonder
as their route around
they did ponder
with trailing fox none too confound
A stop upon a little mound
helped the straggler
to make up ground
and sneak in a littler nearer
Feathers flying to the sky high
alas the fox is left with nigh Christmas chicken pie.

Oh, feckless words!
what sonnet is this?
that tries my brain
and poetic nerves
with none a thought
you do deserve
the trash heap abyss
no more to strain
a pen's sweet curves
Ai- just flow is sought
but for today, I will away
and grace One Shot Wednesday with A New Day

Winding down...

Just having a little fun today.

The kids and I hit the mall one more time.

Crazy!

I know,

but they had to get something for Grandma!

and then I forgot about the babysitter.

groan...

Every year I think I am done and then one more thing pops up,

and then another, 

and another.

I am never quite done until Christmas Eve

when the mall doors close

and I sit back

to turn my focus to wrapping.

Yeah.

That is never done until late Christmas Eve

when the kids are in bed.

Christmas carols play softly 

on my sad excuse for a stereo

and a rum and eggnog sits primly

by my elbow

waiting to fill me with cheer.

Ahhh!

But you?

How are you doing with your Christmas prep?

Are your cookies baked 

or bought :-}

Are the presents made/paid for,

wrapped and waiting under the tree?

or are you still scrambling,

 trying to figure out what tree,

and where to put it?

never mind decorations!

ohhh...

Well, the days are winding short.

Perhaps a quick mulled cider

will give the inspiration needed

to hit the stores Christmas Eve

with a flurry of spirit,

spunk and savings

and you can wake

Christmas morn

to cheer

& love

for all

*

Happy Tourists

The sound of Arnie’s engine died away. We shifted and jostled in the van straining to see why all the land rovers and overland trucks were clustered in the area. Buffalos were interesting, especially in a herd as large as this one, possibly upwards of 200 head?  I am a far cry from being able to estimate herd sizes, but I was impressed none-the-less. There was an electric hum in the air though. We could hear people in the other vehicles chattering excitedly in hushed tones, but could not see what all the drama was for.

And then we saw them. Lions. Seven big lions slowly sauntered out of the bush. They paid no mind to the humans and their vehicles strewn about. Their objective was the buffalo. They had dinner on their minds and we were privy to the meal plan.

In awe, we watched over the next hour as the lions slowly made their way closer and closer to the ever drifting buffalo herd. The sun made its way across the sky, but still the lions stalked their prey apparently unnoticed by the lumbering bovines. Other vehicles stopped to take in this awesome sight and a festive feeling filled the air as flashes could be seen from a multitude of cameras. We opened Arnie’s slider door to better see and photograph this lion hunt in the process. It was invigorating to watch, even at its slow pace across the savannah.

The lions fanned out keeping low in the scrub grass. Somehow they communicated between themselves and seemed to focus their attention to an area at the back of the herd. I know that predators tend to attack the old, weak or young and we guessed at where they would centre their assault. They inched closer and closer to the shuffling buffalos.

When the lions were about ten feet from the herd, the wind shifted. We were a ways off from the activity, but we could clearly see some of the larger male buffalos flick their heads and look around. Disappointment seemed imminent for all the effort that the lions had put in. We could see the lions tense and tensed with them as they debated making a last ditch attack. A hush had fallen over the human observers, but camera bulbs still flashed.

And then the gig was up. One of the buffalos turned and bristled. Four or five of the bulls broke off from the herd, that now hastened its pace away from the perceived threats behind it. They spied the lions and charged at them. The lions knew they had been beat and skulked off from the running bulls. The massive horns on the buffalos heads were an effective deterrent for most beasts to change their minds on an attack. No dinner would be had for the lions tonight.

My tale does not end there though.

It was thrilling to watch the hunt and just as awesome to witness the defeat of it. The lions retreated back towards the bushes from where they had originally emerged. There was no hurry now, so the big cats sauntered away from their spoiled dinner plans, but headed directly towards the watching vehicles. Again, cameras came to life as the lions drew near for spectacular close-ups. What a treat this evening game drive had been for many a happy tourist!

I watched the lions plodding along in fascination, until my mind clicked. I had the slider door open and seven hungry predators were headed in my direction after missing out on a potential meal. The puny sides of our little tin can would be no match for their razor sharp claws, but it would be even easier to snatch a quick bite with nothing in the way but a few articles of clothes.

I quickly pulled my legs back into the van and scrambled to my knees. I grabbed the handle of the slider door and reefed on it to pull it closed. It slid across, bumped into the side of the frame and bounced back.  The door had not closed. As I peered through the crack in the doorframe, I watched the lead lioness sprawl three feet from our front bumper. Another lay down behind us. Still more plunked down just to our left. My knuckles turned white on the handle of the door and my heart tripped into overtime. I could not open the slider to see if I could slam it shut again. What if it didn’t seal and all I accomplished was gaining the attention of the hungry felines that surrounded us?

A whimper escaped from me, as I clung to the handle. We could not start the van and drive away, as so many of the other vehicle were now doing. The starter had not worked on the van in months. Arnie required a push start  before he would acquiesce to spring to life. There was no way that Brett and Oliver would be jumping out of the van to push the vehicle far enough to have it fire to life. There were lions on either side of the front wheels! A passing vehicle informed us that two more males were lying in the bushes just beyond us as well.

Good  Christ, my mind screamed. What were we going to do!

Limp humour from the front seat did not lift my spirits, as the sun marched steadily towards the western horizon. It would be dark soon. Most of the other vehicles were gone as all vehicles were to be out of the park by 6:30 and it was quickly working its way towards 7PM. Brett called over to one of the straggling land rovers to inform them of our dilemma.

“Mind giving us a push,” Brett shouted. “In a bit of a tricky spot and the kombi is a push start at present.”

They conversed back and forth, then the other driver agreed to give it a go, figuring to shove us with his bush bar. I pictured Arnie’s bumper getting mangled days before we were set to sell out, but I preferred that to becoming dinner.

It was at that moment that the lions decided that it was time to move off. The ladies rose and walked off a pace. Brett and Oliver wasted no time in jumping out to race Arnie down the track and mercifully he sprang to life. As we sputtered to life and began to drive, I pulled the door back and swung it closed with a monstrous effort. With that click, I sank back shaking. I finally breathed a ragged breathe and felt adrenaline coursing through me. Lifting my hand, I saw it visibly shake and knew that the threat had been terribly real. We would not be lion steaks tonight though. We had definitely had the excitement that we had been seeking and could leave stating that we were indeed very happy tourists.