It's been so long since I've written a blog I'm not sure anyone will even come by. But if you do, know that I appreciate your reading. I was cleaning some files and found this Christmas poem I wrote years ago. So I'm recycling my work again. I love writing but have spent the last five months reading, reading, reading, hoping that by reading all sorts of different genres that my own writing will improve. I have to admit though when I get into a good/great story, I sink in and my writer self takes a leave of absence. I'm still working on the novel about Sweet Baby James, a baby abduction. Hoping I'm making the story stronger than any I've yet written.
So here's my poem. Enjoy! Have a lovely beginning to your Christmas season and God Bless!
THE RED CHRISTMAS CANE
I was walking around on an old cane that year
Grumping and complaining that the holidays were here.
I looked out my window and as far as I could see
There were lights, stars, and angels adorning every tree.
And I might as well tell you, it bugged the heck out of me!
If I hadn’t fallen and an ankle broken
I’d be out at the mall buying holiday tokens.
A scarf for the mail man, a tie for my son,
A big can of tuna for my old cat Bun.
Instead, I was stuck in the house that year
And didn’t expect Christmas to make its way here.
I sat in my rocker and let the tears fly
Thinking that the season was passing me by.
THEN I saw Mr. Mackey in his big front window
Holding a sign that said, “Happy Holiday, Belinda.”
Mr. Mackey, you see, was a wheelchair bound man
But, still, there he was, a greeting in his hand.
A smile was on this kind man’s face
Though he was confined in a heavy back brace.
Well, I looked up his number and I called Mr. Mackey
Hoping what I had to say wasn’t WAY too tacky.
“Mr. Mackey,” I said, “PLE---ASE share my Christmas cake.”
(Since he lived alone, I was sure he didn’t bake.)
“Why, Belinda, my dear, all this time I’ve been waiting
To make sure some other fellow you were not dating.
“Come for a party and bring what you might,
A holiday fire together we’ll light.”
So, I set out later on my red Christmas cane
For Charlie Mackey’s house just across the lane.
And by spring, Charlie’d asked me to be his bride -
When I said yes, we both sat down and cried.
Though my red Christmas cane has been put away
Charlie Mackie and I celebrate Christmas every day.
Copyright (c) 2002 by Barbara A. Whittington
So here's my poem. Enjoy! Have a lovely beginning to your Christmas season and God Bless!
THE RED CHRISTMAS CANE
I was walking around on an old cane that year
Grumping and complaining that the holidays were here.
I looked out my window and as far as I could see
There were lights, stars, and angels adorning every tree.
And I might as well tell you, it bugged the heck out of me!
If I hadn’t fallen and an ankle broken
I’d be out at the mall buying holiday tokens.
A scarf for the mail man, a tie for my son,
A big can of tuna for my old cat Bun.
Instead, I was stuck in the house that year
And didn’t expect Christmas to make its way here.
I sat in my rocker and let the tears fly
Thinking that the season was passing me by.
THEN I saw Mr. Mackey in his big front window
Holding a sign that said, “Happy Holiday, Belinda.”
Mr. Mackey, you see, was a wheelchair bound man
But, still, there he was, a greeting in his hand.
A smile was on this kind man’s face
Though he was confined in a heavy back brace.
Well, I looked up his number and I called Mr. Mackey
Hoping what I had to say wasn’t WAY too tacky.
“Mr. Mackey,” I said, “PLE---ASE share my Christmas cake.”
(Since he lived alone, I was sure he didn’t bake.)
“Why, Belinda, my dear, all this time I’ve been waiting
To make sure some other fellow you were not dating.
“Come for a party and bring what you might,
A holiday fire together we’ll light.”
So, I set out later on my red Christmas cane
For Charlie Mackey’s house just across the lane.
And by spring, Charlie’d asked me to be his bride -
When I said yes, we both sat down and cried.
Though my red Christmas cane has been put away
Charlie Mackie and I celebrate Christmas every day.
Copyright (c) 2002 by Barbara A. Whittington
That's as sweet as peppermint candy! Very nice.
ReplyDeleteAh coming from you that means a bunch! Hugs.
DeleteCute Christmas love story.
ReplyDeleteWe are never alone.
No matter our age or condition I believe someone loves us! Thanks for reading Gail.
DeleteWe all need more poetry in our lives. Thanks for sharing your poem. It inspired me to spend some time early this morning reading from a poetry anthology--Emily Dickinson, Edna St.Vincent Millay, and several others.
ReplyDeleteI agree. I'm not great at writing it but I love doing it and I enjoy reading it. Esp the book you gave me by Billy Collins. So far my fave. Hugs.
DeleteHi Barbara. That was cute!
ReplyDeleteAwww....
ReplyDeleteAwww....
ReplyDelete