Candlelight and Snowflakes

Candlelight and snowflakes
And quiet winter dreams;
Tucked up warm and cozy
as my favorite tea cup steams.
Put away the cares of day
All the busy schemes;
There's just quiet snowflakes,
Hot tea and winter dreams

Shhh, Don't tell anyone what kind of week I had!!!

I hope that mixing sherry with
A baser form of wine
Will not affect the way I type
Each word, each phrase and line.
But I suspect when I look back
I’ll find some small regret
For all the alcohol I drank
And for rhymes thus beget…

Okay… so you might think I’m drunk
But that’s a truth unsaid
And I’ll deny it do the day
that I should turn up… WHAT?!!!!

Why would you think that I would say
“The day I turn up dead"?
Just cause it rhymes with what I wrote
About the “truth unsaid”?

Well I’d say you should just forget
Those “dark side” thoughts you had
Cause I’m a good girl when I drink
I’d never be that bad!!!
And now I’m off to climb the stairs
And curl up in my bed!!!

I have been too long away...

I have been too long away
I’ve tried, to no avail,
To write a thought, a word, a phrase
That speaks to my travail.
In suffering I could not think
My mind could only flail.
All efforts at defining this
Were hollow, flat and pale.

And while recovery is at hand
My head aches and I’m frail
But if I hurt him for this cold...
I’d have to go to jail!!!

A Cold Winter Night

The stars are cutting patches from
The cloudy winter sky
Their edges sharp, they shred and tear
Each cloud the wind drives by.
While hard and cold, the winter night
Crackles through the trees
And frosts the grass to crystal blades;
A bitter winter freeze.

Yet deep within its bitter heart
The night is filled with light
A crescent moon, though thin and frail,
Shines brightly in the night.

Warrior-Bloggers

There is a hollow in my heart,
An empty place I go
To find the voice I never heard,
The face I did not know

For they belonged to one now lost,
Who stood, despite his fears,
And faced the dark in our behalf
And leaves us now with tears.

For though I never met the men
Their thoughts are known to me
They fought and blogged, they left to us
A precious legacy.

A soldier’s call to those at home
Don’t cut us to the bone
Don’t send us here, then damn us all.
He said, “Hope Rides Alone”.
(SGT Eddie Jeffers)

G’kar sent insight from the front
And thoughts on life back here
He held his life in high regard,
But held his freedom dear.
(MAJ Andrew Olmstead)

That empty place within my heart
Is filled with grief tonight
The scythe of war has reaped again
A warrior of the light
The fight goes on because it must
But somehow it seems right
That I should wash their memories
In tears, to keep them bright.

The Voices that are Silent

This is one I wrote years ago. I just realized that I had not posted it before, so here it is now.


As wind sweeps down the mountain pass
it brings an icy song
that crescendos through the lowlands,
It's voices growing strong.
And yet, there is an emptiness,
a hollow in the wind.
The swiftly fading echo of
a song that once had been.

The ocean booms within its depths
and trills upon it's shores,
while voices echo from it's waves
and sing across it's floors.
But, in this joyous melody
an ending has begun.
For, in the chorus of the sea,
a song is now unsung.

The rhythm of the running feet,
staccato, through the trees.
The hunters' song ripples the night
and echoes on the breeze.
But, as the leaves in winter time,
the singers fall to die.
And, like those withered, winter leaves
their silence fills the sky.

We listen, still, to hear the songs
that can be sung no more
while we watch as living singers
become the stuff of lore.
And as the choir of voices
is silenced one by one
we, finally, will face the day
when all the singing's done.

We cannot lose the songs of earth.
Already we must pay that cost.
Only voices we have silenced
could sing the songs that we have lost.