Christmas Thoughts from Grandma

Christmas is for children or is it?
They say that Christmas is the time for little children
Sugar plums, dolls and trucks, gumdrops and candy canes
Santa Claus, Old St. Nick and reindeer flying in the evening sky
I am not so sure that is true in every case
Thinking of gifts for little ones, or friends
Seems to fashion within my deepest soul,
Some of my very best inclinations.
More thoughtful, gentler and an eagerness to share;
The music of the season, the colors in the shops
The decorated wreaths and boughs, the scent
Of pine where young families go to choose, the perfect fir tree
The singing of the carols, the tale of Wiseman, shepherds tending flocks
And angels are at the top of my shopping list.
The problems and disappointments of this modern world.
I would choose to pay a never mind to
For this month of holiday, I am welcoming change
In even my gift list for, I am gathering.
The Story of the tiny babe born in Bethlehem
Bringing back a store of memories of my own childhood,
That is the gift I long to bestow upon myself
And as I wistfully recall
Those sights and sounds of the past.
I feel glad to be
A grown child with memories wrapped like presents
All addressed just to me
Beneath my lighted Christmas tree.
I think I might like to place a few
For other ones I treasure to some like you.

By Barbara Renouf

Poetry Corner

West has been writing poetry for his composition course and I thought I'd share some of it here. (I hope that's OK. Maybe I need another blog for this kind of thing.)
Anyway, does anybody else want to share a poem here? Just email me (vsmylroie@aol.com) and let me know and I'll add it to the collection.

A Night Sky

The Night Sky

Is like a dark, sleepy face

With White Freckles.

A Snowflake

A snowflake is

A silver speck

Of spider web

Falling from Above.

A Winter's Garden Haiku

The Garden is Green.

Then Snow comes with a blanket.

The Garden is White.

A Silly Poem

I want to go to the pool

But the pool is too cool.

I guess I'll have to drool

To warm up the pool.

Who am I?

I am a creature

that creeps and crawls

Eats bugs

Bites and hangs

From a silvery web.

Only I can

Spin my own home.

What am I?

Come into my web

And find out.

Mwah ha ha.

Sailor wanted to add one, too.

Winter Breakfast

I don't mean to boast

But I ate the most

Hot Cocoa and Toast.

Before I burst,

Can I have more first?

Send more my way and I'll add them on. (Where are your poems, Reevey?)