Pages have been silent , poetry settled hibernating in its own nest of growing existence , other words have escaped beyond borders and territories dramatic arcs to be filmed on flickering silver screen those words I am embracing , those words are my life blood.
I sit back this Christmas morning and think of you all
Hoylake is the centre of seasonal gifts and joy , with an ice rink as well , Spikey Mouse Photography will be there with a fine array of art gifts
nsa tinsel and filament devices
elves a watching facebook and twitter
the santa is coming
who has been naughty or nice
on sled pulled by drones
war on terror so far unfinished
bringing gifts to a hurting poor
low pay, taxation and what of medicare
food bank turkey in a suspicious world
ho ho ho
debt advice and feeling jolly
check the tree for gps and listening devices
holly wreath marks the door
apocalpyse around the corner
automatic rifle and several handguns
a thousand tins of beans
wal mart generation
in a generation x world
fattened wealthy bulls work the market
bonuses pour from the sky
the santa is coming
ho ho ho
with foreclosure signs
and spooks past and present
the santa is coming
you must feel joyful and triumphant
hand on heart god bless everyone
one and all
primaries and elections
next on elves agenda
so use your time
and think
what do you want
ho ho ho
Merry Christmas to all my friends and blog followers thank you for all your comments and support i really appreciate all of you and if you read this in passing on a blog voyage you are always welcome love to all , all the best and enjoy
she put her hand upon his chest,
felt the movement
something inside,
beneath flesh wrapping
and bone protection,
a beating heart
gift wrapped in his warmth
love and security,
it was for her,
tatooed hallmark
her name imprinted
seared as a lasting impression,
to her touch
it revealed a long and
future life,
of happiness and
everyday happenings,
lost socks and incidental kisses,
that was all she needed
an aortic ruby,
wrapped in the one gift
she loved
life
white snow, bright snow
raw to eyes and heart,
last night she fell asleep,
by morning he was gone,
note now twisted on table
next to coffee pot,
with little explanation
a cowardly run,
stood on porch
looking to the furthest point,
snow blended landscape
so that it looked the same,
tears held back,
for something in the light
told her
it would get better now
velvetmedia 