Category Archives: Holidays

Easter Hunts

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Easter Hunts

My toy cannon muffled by an egg stuffed in its snout.
Easter grass and sugar eggs hidden inside and out.
My parents’ Easter soirees were things of grand design.
The pink nests were sister’s and the yellow ones were mine.
One disappeared behind the mirror, one behind father’s chair.
At the end, still one nest to be found, I knew not where.
Suckers, Peeps and sugar eggs, jelly beans and gummies—
sought out and stuffed in Easter baskets, then stuffed in our tummies.
My folks went to such bother, whereas I must say in truth, 
If I’d been asked, I’d rather have just had a Baby Ruth!

 

Prompt words this Easter Sunday are truth, soiree, disappear, cannon and mirror. (You didn’t make it east this time, folks!)

Warm Christmas Tidings

Warm Christmas Tidings

Click on photos to enlarge and read captions.

Warm Christmas Tidings

Christmas without frost can be merry nonetheless.
You can have the camaraderie, the company and mess.
Christmas in warm climates has all of the same joys,
and even really old kids can enjoy sacks full of toys.
Spinning tops with lights and music rounded out the night,
Sergio and David thrilling at the sight.
As old friends and some new ones met this last week of December
to make another Christmas memory for us all to remember.

 

Prompt words for today are Christmas, frost, merry, joy and sight.

Christmas Preparations

Click on first photo below to enlarge all and read captions.

For the Friendly Friday Photo prompt: Xmas Preparations.

Scrooge and Your Christmas Vacation

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Scrooge and Your Christmas Vacation

Scrooge has turned surfing waves to ice and ski slopes into water.
Now he’ll ruin the rest of Christmas for your son and daughter.
He’s hacked into Kris Kringle’s map and hijacked all the toys—
the dolls and basketballs of girls, the hockey sticks of boys.
He’s eaten all the cookies—just stuffed them in his face.
The mistletoe and holly? Vanished, without a trace.

Yes, Scrooge is up to his old tricks, spreading brimstone and acid
over all your Christmas plans that seemed so set and placid.
If you want to thwart him, take your surfboards to the slopes.
Go skiing at the oceanside. Ruin all his dark Scrooge hopes.
Make merry with no mistletoe. Traditions rearrange.
Give Santa Claus a hotdog. He’ll appreciate the change!

In our modern screwed-up world, we’ve gone a bit astray.
We’ve forgotten the real purpose behind our Christmas Day.
That first Christmas was as humble as a Christmas scene could be.
No holly and no mistletoe. Much less frivolity.
The original gifts of Christmas were not placed beneath a tree,
for those first gifts that were given were not meant for you and me.

How the message has been altered as it came down the years
is that Christmas is for getting and disappointed tears
if we don’t get what we wanted. Expectations of perfection.
When we think of giving, we don’t see our own reflection.
Perhaps Scrooge brings the point across that joy is in the living.
So instead of what you hoped you’d get, concentrate on giving!

 

Prompt words today are Scrooge, map, tasteful, placid and water.

Interlopers

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“I don’t know that there are real ghosts and goblins, but there are always more trick-or-treaters than neighborhood kids.”     —Robert Brault

Interlopers

They watch the clock, waiting for dark,
impatient for their All-souls lark.
Small ghosts and goblins screech and moan,
their ghastly act to finely hone.
“Eye of newt and toe of frog,”
Mother prompts, as off they jog—
little witches in Walmart capes
with itchy tags upon their napes.

Meanwhile, other ghastly things
soar in on brooms, flap in on wings.
They’ve found that yearly secret door
under the earth, under the floor,
and creaked it open. Joining the flood
who lust for treats, they lust for blood.
Who among us might ace the task
of sorting countenance from mask?

That little vampire, newly gone—
was his blood real or painted on?
“Double double toil and trouble,
cauldron boil and cauldron bubble.”
Were those lines recently rehearsed
or are these witches instead well-versed
in brewing up a recipe
of wing of gnat and eye of bee?

Which ghoulies real and which ones playing?
Which ones begging? Which ones preying?
What other night of any year
do we open doors, devoid of fear
for such strange beings? Who thinks of this—
Hershey’s kisses or vampire’s kiss?
A silly poem. When small ghosts boo, they
offer no real threat. Or do they?

 

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Prompts for today are the secret door, adage, screech, treat and clock. Since one of the prompt words was “adage,” rather than use the actual word in the poem, I used a quote (an adage of sorts) by Robert Brault as inspiration for this poem.