The hunter, Orion, crosses the sky On this, the deepest, dark night of the year, The sharp winds blow and the snow’s first flakes fly Signs, Solstice of Yule with Winter is here. Family and friends, draw their loved ones near To deck the halls and hug each other tight, Gathering happiness, laughter and cheer ...

A visual poem celebrating the magic of the Christmas tree!

The scent of cedar permeates the air as you stand there, watching the traffic pass you by. Your hair is pulled away from your face in a low-rise ponytail, and the beanie you have on your head is one you have never worn before. You’re not used to the coldness you can feel seeping in ...

Christmas’ frosty breathBringing more than wrapped presentsNo ribbons or bows –this kind of Joy can’t be bought Reflects in babes’ eyeThe magic of ChristmastimeFriends and families –Merry time of reunions making memories-Spreading cheer and goodwillHelping those in need-the spirit of Santa lives Warmth shared, winter thawsWith Gifts of love, hearts unwrapSpirits are lifted –The Miracle ...

They’re the first things I see on the table, and I have to do a check to make sure I’m not seeing things. People are talking around me, but it all gets drowned out. I didn’t know anyone else ever made these. My eyes begin to well with tears I didn’t know I still had. How could ...

My paws prance upon the hardwood floor. I look around the silent living room, and my nose directs me to a small table where the corpses of half-eaten gingerbread men lie alongside a glass of cold milk. I take nibbles of each spiced cookie so that their bodies don’t go to waste. But, I avoid ...

It’s Christmas day, and as the kids grumble about the gifts they didn’t receive, you’re in the kitchen, surrounded by the sharp aroma of minced onions while completing the repetitive task of removing the thick, robust skin of the potatoes. The kitchen is filled with the pungent and sweet fragrance of herbs as the flavors ...

“Mary! Child, where are you? I need your assistance with these Christmas decorations. Mary!” Mama’s cries grow fainter as I briskly walk further down the corridor away from her room. Hopefully she will not notice me if I hide in the kitchen. Cook smiles at me when I enter the pantry, knowing why I am ...

Crisp white flakes pour down They paint earth’s brown canvas bright They bring forth new life

Louise tossed on her bed and turned onto her back. She twisted a blond curl splayed out on the pillow. The lights strung on the bushes outside her window took turns glowing red and green on her ceiling. In the predawn hours, Louise rose and pulled on a flannel shirt and jeans. She slid on ...