Mister Boy,
You’re mad right now and the tears
fall down your face.
Lovely Boy,
You’re sad again and the fears
forget His grace.
You believe you’re misunderstood.
Oh, I would comfort you if I could.
But you turn away,
within your bad day
and I don’t know what to say.
Except, ‘I love you’
and,”I’m here.’
and I hope you know it’s true.
That I do and I am, whenever you are blue.
submitting at
Jingle Poetry and
The Poetry Palace
Forgive my lack of merriment,
I’ll forgive your lack of presence
and the only gift I want
this year is for this not to become tradition.
Next Advent, I’d rather wait for Jesus.
I’m asking grace
for my lack of cheer,
and extending grace
to all.
But I need flesh
for this skeletal
family,
just a manger for my heart.
Next Christmas, I want you here.
submitting at Gooseberry Garden
Schmaltz, I want to call it but this is mere self-protection.
Memories pose no threat but tears, and might those serve me cleansing.
Families flow as do tears and strength is formed through both.
So, I’ll name it clarity rather than sentimentality as I pave uncharted territories. Photos, mementos and recollections, these my map
and treasure.
Let’s deck the halls this season,bravely,
both with old and new.
submitting at
Jingle Poetry
