Memories at Christmas

The rain whispers soft on the roof
in words I can't quite hear,
as if they held a message from
someone no longer here.

The lights twinkle upon the tree
to cheer my weary heart
and remind me I'm not alone
though we are now apart.

There's joy and sorrow in the night,
and love lingers there, too.
It may be just a memory,
but it will see me through.

Sweet Dreams

I feel the dark night settle in.
The winter, cold and still,
has drawn a frosted filigree
on window pane and sill.
Each star is clear and crystalline
within the night's deep chill,
and restless dreams are held at bay
by little more than will.

I know that it is early yet
to turn my thoughts to bed,
and there are plans for tomorrow
that I should make instead,
but it is thoughts of flannel sheets
that clutter up my head.
Though I may still be sitting here,
my mind has gone ahead.

So let me say good night to you,
I pray your dreams are sweet,
but I must go and join my thoughts
beneath a flannel sheet!

Dreams....

The sea sings softly in the night,

The stars hum joyfully

And I am off to bed to dream

Of songs and stars and sea.

 

Sleep well, my friends, soft dreams to you

Beneath the winter sky.

May God hold you within His hand

Until the new day's nigh.

The Edge of Sorrow

At the ragged edge of sorrow

Where old memories live on,
There the heart longs for tomorrow,
Although yesterday’s not gone.
 
It is in such empty places
That the brokenhearted dwell,
Striving to slip free the traces
Of their spirit crushing hell.
 
All the long years of their grieving
Will give way in time to peace,
But for now, there’s no believing
Sorrow will give them surcease.
 
Hold them, Lord, within Your stillness,
Heal their broken, tortured hearts.
Hopelessness becomes an illness,
But, in You, true healing starts.
 
Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Sunrise Through Ash and Smoke

And as the pink sun rises up
against the flat, gray sky
she, too, rises up from the ash
rubbing it from her eye.
She's not a phoenix, swift of wing,
for she can't even fly,
but that does not mean she can't rise
and give it a good try!

Old Friend, Old Memories

The moon is rising, red of face,
into the night time sky.
The sun has settled down to dream
and bid the day good-bye.
I feel the stillness of the night
call to the wild in me,
but what is old and tired has
greater priority.
I know the moon is watching me,
remembering the days
when I would play all night within
his silken, silver rays.
But those days are long past and gone,
there's no wild left in me,
so I will bid good night to him
and too that memory.

 

The smoke from the wildfires in British Columbia is blanketing western WA. While it's hard on breathing, it makes for some amazing and eerie moonrises and sunrises!

Sweet Night Dreams

The moon is bidding me to bed,
the night is soft and still.
I long to linger yet a while,
but I don't think I will.
For I have heard the sweet night song
that rustles through the trees
and whispers to me of sweet dreams
With every passing breeze.

Good Night!