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Christmas Haiku #9

Posted: 9 December 2013

Look around the tree,
With the gifts lie fear and doubt,
Baubles of despair.

Bill Adair

Poem for the Day

Posted: 8 December 2013

All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season,
And the merchants' windows are all bright
With the faces of the children.
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes,
They'll be gathering around the hearths and tales
Giving thanks for all god's graces,
And the birth of the rebel Jesus.

Well they call him by the prince of peace
And they call him by the Saviour,
And they pray to him upon the seas
And in every golden tavern.
As they fill his churches with their pride and gold
And their faith in him increases,
But they've turned the nature that I worshipped in
From a temple to a robber's den,
In the words of the rebel Jesus.

We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions,
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations.
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us,
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why they are poor,
They get the same as the rebel Jesus.

But please forgive me if I seem
To take the tone of judgement,
For I've no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment.
In this life of hardship and of earthly toil,
We have need for anything that frees us,
So I bid you pleasure and I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan,
On the side of the rebel Jesus.

The Rebel Jesus
Jackson Browne

Christmas Haiku #8

Posted: 8 December 2013

Christmas windows blaze
Pyramids of secret hope,
Each one tells a tale.

Bill Adair

Poem for the Day

Posted: 7 December 2013

Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastry-cook's next door to each other with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered, -- flushed but smiling proudly, -- with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half a quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

O, a wonderful pudding I Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire.

Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glass, -- two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle. These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and crackled noisily. Then Bob proposed: --

"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!"
Which all the family re-echoed.
"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.

from A Christmas Carol
Charles Dickens

Christmas Haiku #7

Posted: 7 December 2013

Once silent and green,
Now dressed and bright with laughter,
The trees sings Noel.

Bill Adair

456-460 of 841 blog entries

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