Twelve Days Til Christmas

Twelve Days Til Christmas

A Poem by Girl Friday (Sarah W.)

picket fences 

too white for this coastal air

stand poised for decoration

ready to be draped with colored lights

emerging from a cardboard box

ready for the annual untangling

 

the snowman in the next yard

is filling with hot air

tipping like a metronome

and smiling with painted pride

as plastic penguins glisten with sweat

on the white ashes of a commercial conspiracy

 

give me a cup of steaming cider 

and a blanket to warm my feet

a golden bell to hang upon the door

and a pine scented candle to remind me

of distant mountains and breathing trees

 

i need no boxes or paper wrapping

no bows to prove that I belong

give me the echo of reminiscence

sweeter than any Christmas confection

and blissful souls to surround my table

decorated only with broken bread 

© 2013 Girl Friday (Sarah W.)


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

This definitely reminds me of Christmas in Australia (where it is sweltering hot in December).
The 'coastal air' and 'the snowman in the next yard filling with hot air' - it is all definitely a 'commerical conspiracy'.

Your message is clear; Christmas should be simple and we should reflect on how it feels to be surrounded by our loved ones. :)

Posted 10 Years Ago


What I probably feel about Christmas, you could feed a dog tinsel and see what kind of Christmas ornaments you could get. It's all decoration, pointless and devoid of meaning. I think your prose demonstrates that truth quite well. Nice work for sure.

Posted 10 Years Ago


The trimmings of bliss have sharp edges,as you skilfully finished each stanza...
This is what the eggnog is for.
~Rossen

Posted 10 Years Ago


Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5
tender...like those two last stanzas a lot.

Posted 10 Years Ago


When one first finds their "voice" it may often seem to them a bit squeaky and timid. There is too, at times, the almost unbearable imagining that they have exhaled and the words or melody that issue forth seem to gasp for air of their own accord. Others however often perceive it quite differently. To them there is a sense of delicate vibration, of grassy reeds waving, subtly, moved by a steady shoreline breeze. There is an invisible motion of time and space that lays waste to concerns that previously troubled. No longer burdened the soul is freed. It takes wing with a small hopping tilt from the ledge of consciousness and falling briefly then soars toward clouds draped about tree-cloaked mountains where "blissful souls .. surround my table" and "give me the echo of reminiscence." It is such a difficult thing for the audience, the reader, the recipient of such marvelous constructions to communicate. For in the end there is only applause, perhaps a few exhalations in the style of the period or roses; token gestures that impart little to nothing of the gifts given and received. Yet it is all we, as audience, have and I for one lay them gently at your feet.

100 breathing trees


Posted 10 Years Ago


"Ready for the annual untangling" love that line, i had to say it out loud a few times. And then the next stanza ends with another class line, "on the white ashes of a commercial conspiracy" I laughed out loud at that one :) that line brilliantly pops the sugary sweet bubble you were building up. You got punch lines Friday.

And then you paint some lovely earthy tones, and bring us back to the real Christmas, the gathering of family and friends. Beautiful.

I did not expect all this when I clicked on a Christmas poem.

Well written and well read.







Posted 10 Years Ago


All the trappings of the season, we put so much stock in them. The truth is that warmth is all we need to decorate our hearts, and loved ones are the best gifts... This is a lovely reminder, Sarah...

Posted 10 Years Ago


I haven't tried steaming cider yet, but i'm ready for it. And this is the best Christmas poem I have ever read . Thanks for writing :)

Posted 10 Years Ago


Love this piece very beautiful.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Christmas has become far to commercial, though it has been that way for years, so "become" really doesn't apply as well in my sentence. But you my friend have penned the reminder that Christmas is a day to share love, to seek out happy memories and live within the simpler things in life. Beautiful my sweet friend.

Posted 10 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

1970 Views
35 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on December 16, 2013
Last Updated on December 16, 2013

Author

Girl Friday (Sarah W.)
Girl Friday (Sarah W.)

The Beach, CA



About
"She's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." - Charles Bukowski A NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: Thank you, everyone, who has supported me so kindly on this site. I am humbled by your kind revie.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..