Christmas Magic

Christmas Magic

Not too long ago the kids stopped believing
So this year all that they will be receiving
Are gifts from family and from each other
Nothing from Santa for this sister and brother.

The Polar Express has lost its rightful place
As the movie of choice in the Christmas Eve space.
Replaced by the lore of The Lord of the Rings
Which brings different kinds of magical things.

And then there’s this doll, a cute little elf
That has not moved an inch all month on her shelf
In years past she was active night after night
But this year the magic has vanished from sight.

Then tonight I sat down after a long day of fun
To reflect on this year which is now all but done
And what do I spy perched low in our tree
The elf sitting cross-legged a hand on one knee.

Now I’m not a grinch and I have a big heart
And I’ve done some magic, and I’ve played my part
But I know I did not move her, not one single bit
Someone else must have, I’m sure of it.

So I ask my daughter and then turn to my son
“The elf must have been moved by someone?”
They shook their heads no and we then sat in wonder
“If not you, or you, then there must be another.”

We sat in silence for several minutes and stared
“It’s the magic of Christmas” my daughter finally decleared
This made my heart swell with joy and belief once more
In the spirit of Christmas and all of its lore.


Merry Christmas!


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The Deal

The Deal

It was a contract carefully crafted,
Words eloquently drafted,
Drawn up on paper pressed from the flesh
Of the twisted dogwood tree.
An old soul would smell the sour stench
Of splinters ripe with the curse of the risen.
But not this soul.. this soul was too new.

She was freshly spawned, senses pale,
Untouched by the moon, untainted by the sun
Her purpose not yet refined.
The path of her life not yet defined
The bitter truth of language and love
Not yet revealed in her mind.
She was innocent of the wicked way of words
The perfect target.

Promises on the page danced like firefly light
Across her eager eyes
It was riddled with absolutes.
Always, everything, anything.. forever.
Nothing in the fine print but the scent of a flower.
No reason to be wary, no cause for concern.
A simple transaction
Negotiated over a clever distraction.

He shined his light on the dotted line
So she could sign using blue/grey ink
Extracted from the iris of her eyes.
And sign she did, happily
Unknowingly, unsuspecting.
Vowing to forego love’s sweet fires
For easy access to all her other hearts desires..

A fair deal?
Perhaps in the mind of one so green
So unopened, so not yet discovered.
But ask again as years unfold
Ask again after loneliness has taken its toll.
The young soul learns about words and grows old
Experience, a relentless taskmistress
Endlessly fine tuning one’s senses to every spectrum.

But the parchment does not share her fate
Crisp as the day it was cut
Ink on the page, unaltered, unfaded
Words written once remain the same.
Their injustice hidden in plain sight
The truth in their meaning revealed only by time
Always, everything, anything.. Ask the dogwood.
There is no justice in forever.


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Justice of the Pieces

Justice of the Pieces

Let your words be lawless
Regard them all as flawless.
Covet the way they sound,
Wound up and unwound.
Seek the villain, hear their plea,
Grant them a pardon, set them free
Make them the hero of your story,
Feed the beast and covet the glory.
Break the rules, twist the plot
Disregard can’t, won’t, and not.
Invite your shadows to take the lead
Allow them license, fulfill their need.
Let go of order, feel the releases
Be the justice of your own pieces.

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I’m queen of my castle here
Perched just below my witches hat
And time marches on around me
It happens just like that.

I’ve got keys to all the doors here
That no one wants to open
I’ve got wishes to be granted
But they all go left unspoken.

It makes me wonder if I’m a fraud
Just a servant to the real throne
Biding my time writing about
A daydream I’m not allowed to own.

I want to let the love inside
I’ve begged beggars come and take it
I’m fighting a war inside my harried mind
Worried that I can no longer fake it.

This place is cold and so alone
And time marches on around me
Pour another cup of wine tonight
Let sleep’s embrace surround me.

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2017-07-11 When in Portland

When in Portland

Today we did what people in Portland do
And went to have donuts at the VooDoo.
Today we did what people in Portland do
And walked up and down 3rd Avenue

We spied some parks and a fountain too.
We ate at a food truck or two.
We did the things that people here do
Because when you’re in Portland that’s what you do.

Then we jumped in the car and drove away
Out of the city about mid-day.
We followed the nav and what did it say?
Take 84 East for a new place to play.

When we arrived at the falls we looked up to the sky
The water was coming from so very high
Should we hike it? Yes, we just have to try.
We did not come this far to just say goodbye.

When the sun started setting we headed back west
Time for some food and a nice place to rest.
We found a good spot, perhaps not the best
It been just lovely so far, being Oregon’s guest.

Yes today has been full, it’s been tried it’s been true.
There is so much too see here, so much to do
Today we did what people in Portland do
Tomorrow it’s off to the coast for a different view.


Best moment of the day… Walking on 3rd avenue when my 15 year old daughter and 13 year old son both held my hand as we walked. I can’t help but be grateful they still want to hold my hand at this age and I also think it may be one of the last times they will both want to. So wonderful.

Best quote of the day… Z: I think there is a skunk near the trail. Me: Um, chances are HIGH that is not a skunk! 😛 (then she punches my arm).

It’s only day one of our little adventure and already it has been so great. I’m excited to see what tomorrow brings.

Peace and Love,

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There’s a triangle in the mind’s eye
Each point leads to the next
And then back to the first
A cycle of spinning
Like a well oiled, finely tuned
Rotary engine.
When it hums it’s sweet music
But like all machines,
It will break down with time.

There are circles at the temple of the world
One ring completely inside the next
And on and on.
On the inside there are secrets
Not yet revealed
A paragon of existence
That we can know of it
Yet not be allowed to enter
Forever traveling the curve.

There are stars above and beyond
Countless and nameless
Endless points of light that exist
Beyond the circles
Outside our triangle lines.
Infinite possibilities
Manifested in two dimensions
As simple shapes
We are too primitive to describe.

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The Mariner

The Mariner

What would become of a tale one tells
With ancient word and rhyme,
Not really of the here and now
But of its own space and time?

A fair prediction, it shall be said
Is that the song falls on deaf ears,
And the world, now quick, no longer home
For one who stops and hears.

A flower plucked has its fate sealed
By those who look upon it
But can a large work tell it better
Than a simple sonnet?

My answer’s “no”, but I’m just one
Whose fate is also sealed
For this is where my heart is home
And by nature not revealed.

But alas good hope, another twist
Has brought The Mariner to me
And I find my own kind of light
In a tale about the sea.

The albatross and life-in-death
And every vision from each verse,
In passion spoken with rhyme not broken
Of wedding guest and curse.

This book survived alone to find me
A century for this one hour of need,
My faith restored, my purpose clear
A question asked has an answer indeed.

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