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A repost from last Christmas that I wrote, but one of my favorites....enjoy....

 

Dear God,

This Christmas I want to give You me.



I come just as I am,
Unboxed,
Unribboned,
Without Glitter,
Without Gold,
Or Glamour.



Nothing special God, just me.



On the name tag of my heart I have written...



"To God with all my love,
Do with me exactly as you choose."



My dear Child,



Your gift is all I have ever wanted,
And it brings tears to My eyes.
You see Child...It was on Christmas Day
I choose to give you...Me.



PS  You are very special!

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Puzzle pieces in a box, each one is a key.
Put them all together, the picture there is me.
Each person in my life holds a puzzle piece, some hold two or three.
But no one has enough of them to know the completed me.

The part that loves her family; the sand, the sea, the shore.
The part that loves so deeply, with passion behind closed doors.
The joys of making jelly that I so love to eat,
the sound of rain on tin roofs, or cool grass on my bare feet.

Then there's the pieces hidden, buried deep within the pile.
To fit the pieces of me together will take you quite awhile.
There is no lid with a photo, to help you solve this task.
I gave it once to someone, whose love for me now's past.

Now I hand out pieces carefully, little clues for you to know
But some of them are missing, I prefer them not to show
Deep emotions, passions, vulnerabilities, many secret parts
The one's of past abuse, almost surely kill my heart.

It’s very hard to cross that line and expose the complete pic.
In times past, I've felt the hurt...and that's the jest of it.
So hold the pieces that you have, carefully in your hands
Then sometime perhaps I'll pass out more, if I feel I can.

 

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Santa asked me, "What do you want for Christmas?"
I thought for a moment..
As I figured what I wanted..no words escaped my lips
suddenly an ache formed in my hips..

I knew what I wanted,
forever by it I am haunted.
It is you that I want,
It is you that I need..
I try to get you..
but always cease to succeed.
I can't even speak to you..
your to perfect for words
you make my heart flutter and I feel like I'm flying whenever I'm with you..

And a little humor for today...

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Swathed in layer upon layer of cotton
standing with hands in my pocket,
not even the wind is awake yet.
No sound, no sound at all.

 

Except the trees,
who whisper to the falling snow,
"Cling to me, cover me,
for I am naked and bitter cold."

 

 

 

The beauty of the countryside

Now cloaked in white magick.

As I stand in the open

I cannot tell what is heavier upon me,

 

the layers of cotton,
the falling dust of heaven,
or the silence of a snowy Sunday morning.

 

 

What do you have planned today?

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From the back of my closet, on a shelf up above,
comes a once a year ritual a labor of love,
‘tis here we keep memories, to open each year,
recollections and treasures, we’ll always revere.

 

‘Midst boxes of tinsel, balls, ribbons and bows,
is a small clothespin reindeer with red button nose,
and a cotton filled star, made of paper and twine,
decorations hand crafted, a child’s design.

 

Two tiny red mittens, from Christmases past,
have fore’er graced the tree, from our first to the last,
names penned in bold letters now faded and bare,
still grace the tree's limbs, tho’ a tad worse for wear.

 

Garlands of paper, a tot’s home-made chain,
a fragile remembrance, ‘twill always remain.
A gift ‘midst the boughs, of each Christmas tree,
placed ‘tween the green branches, a fond memory.

 

That Santa Claus ornament... remembering Pop,
figurines from my parents, placed near the top,
two ceramic children kissing, our heritage we crave,
hand painted adornments, remembrances saved.

Each year far more precious, than each year before,
these cherished mementos, fond keepsakes we store,
placed gently in boxes, repackaged with love,
in the back of my closet, on a shelf up above.

 

 

 

and for those of you who are wondering which child sitting on Santa's lap was me?

 

 

 

Have a great weekend!!!

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I

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A special Dedication to the Mall Santa Clause....

I started this 2 years ago and now I see these pictures everywhere...including the one of me...gee which crying little monster am I?

Please give a few minutes for the pictures to load.

Thank you!

 

After A Month of This...I am surprised that Santa is not like this...

Then like This

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It’s Thanksgiving time again.  I know this because everyone is talking about it.  Wishing me a happy Thanksgiving, and all the best for myself and my family.  Over the last few days I replied and wished the same, but the holiday hadn’t really set in, my mind could not absorb the true beauty and splendor of being thankful.

Driving home from work tonight it hit me.  I was simply chatting with a friend and the realization consumed me, why I should truly be grateful this Thanksgiving, above all others.  I am alive!

If you were to write a list of the things you are thankful for, most of us would put down all the good things of life, like children, love, marriage, money, a job, all the blessing bestowed upon us by our Creator.

But as I look over my list, I wonder about the difficult things of the year.  Should they be on the list, too?  Is it not written that we are to be thankful and grateful for all things?

My list does not include some suffering I had this year, but I never would have grown without those pains, problems, and suffering.  My list did not include the diagnosis of cancer, or the Doctor telling me to go home and get my affairs in order.  It didn’t include the feelings of disappointment of perhaps not living long enough to see my grandchildren, or the look upon my Son’s face when the news needed to be shared with him.

Yet it was at that moment when my disappointment was the greatest that my faith, strength and love grew.  From this disappointment my new life was formed and my health regained, new friends made and new loves realized.  My life flourished beyond my wildest dreams.  New blessings from my Creator swept into my life and I was transformed.

It is not easy to make out a pain and disappointment list and then be thankful over it, yet the Old Testament prophet did such a thing. (see Habakkuk 3:17 – 18).

The secret is in the fact that he did not make up his list of praise and thanksgiving by how he felt emotionally.  He made it a matter of will.  He still gave praise.

That’s Thanksgiving!

 

I’m making out a new list…

 

I think I am most thankful this year for the many that have rekindled my inner spirit!

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Damp, foggy morning
Sun hides behind a blanket of clouds
Hovering above the frozen ground
Dim porch lights barely visible
From a nearby neighbor's house

Out the window to the west
A congregation of birds have formed
Sparrows wonderfully alight the view
Abundance of feathered friends perched
Upon a snowy fence.

Empty stable with an over grown pasture
Chatting away amongst themselves
Smile shared as I sit and stare...
Remembering a quote once told to me..

"May wonderful sparrows alight outside your window"
A brighter side to early morning winter blues

Don't forget to feed our feathered friends this wonderful Thanksgiving Week!

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One by one the stars turn off

and the tired moon slumbers away. 
The darkness dispels

as morn opens her curious eyes.

 

 

The Eastern skies slowly turn into gold,

bringing its warmth

to herald the birth of day.

 

 

Cheerful tweeting fills the air;

The bold chanticleer stands upright

crowing with every muscle.

 

 

All this….

as the twilight fades,

making way for dawn.

 

 

And I pull my blanket

over my head,

waiting to silence

my alarm clock.

 

 

And in my sleepy stupor

it hits me that Earth is bursting into song.......

rejoicing beneath the rising sun;
why then should I be the ingrate?

 

 

so I humbly bow in reverence

 

 

and give thanks.......

 

What did you give thanks for today?

 

Have a Blessed Day!! 

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I hold out this pen to you,

an instrument of truth and power.

This little pen

of no significant hue

writes from within the innards of my soul.

 

 

This pen I say

is a voice for the voiceless,

speaking out for creatures with no words.

 

 

This pen tells of life and loss,

of laughter and sadness,

of  rights and wrongs,

of love....

 

 

of hearts given, taken, broken.

 

 

Yes this simple pen

that I hold in my hand

is inked when emotions are enthused.

 

 

 

Word has it that the pen

is mightier than the sword;

Thus I extend to you this pen

 

 

move me therefore so that its ink may flow.

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