Christmas Voices

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I think this is a bit of trial and error…I wanted to create some kind of advent calendar in “writings”…. so this I will add to, and I am going to say the inspiration was from Gemma, my visits to Rimu Park from d’verse  openlinknight-185. It asked for a poem, but I hope that I can do 24 that will all become one if that makes sense.

Rimu Park is the retirement home and as I visit I often learn new things about both the residents and my own outlook on life. I love Christmas dearly and I think I want to demonstrate through the full piece that it means different things to different people at different points in their lives. Whilst it can be a time of family and of love and sharing it can also be a time of loneliness and grief not just for people loved and lost but also for Christmas’ past.

December 1st. The Optimist

Christmas lights twinkle

Full of festive hopefulness

Heartaches falter fast

 

December 2nd. The Sage

Shadows and sorrows

Embers echo-Christmas past

Silent separation

 

December 3rd. The Giver

Secret Santa gifts

Friendly fun festivities

Given from my heart

 

December 4th. The Abandoned

You left without saying goodbye

My spirit was broken

Mistletoe mocks

 

December 5th. The Charlatan

Love was lacklustre

Was the food mixer the gift

To bring severance

 

Dec 6 and 7. The rector and his wife

In the beginning

Was the word and the word was

Pray for us sinners

 

We gave all we had

There was nothing left to give

God took it all

 

Dec 8th. The Teacher

Christingle service

Carol singing in the snow

Childrens faces glow

 

 

Alison Jean Hankinson

 

Deserted

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Deserted
“APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”1
I waited and you didn’t come, it got colder and darkened days rolled into darkened nights
The numbing loneliness consumed my every optimistic thought
Extinguished every light that burned within.
The embers of our love were dying as the frozen ground began to thaw.
It should have been a time of hope, snowdrops heralded the spring’s swift approach
But these bones are old and our love is cold- but a distant memory
Cherry blossom parades her poignant pinks for a newer generation.

  1. This is a direct Quote from TS Eliot, “The Wasteland” I didn’t take it from a book, I carry it with me in my head.
  2. I think it is one of my most favourite poems – I love the Thames maidens.- I like the changes and the desolation, and the history and the symbolism. It reminds me of the wind blowing dust over the landscape and burying the present.
  3. This is for Poetics at d’Verse.

Last Breath

As all around him his benevolent family held hands and wept and wailed,

He rallied momentarily, gave his wife a resolute smile before taking her hand and exhaling his final rasping breath.

They could grieve silently now knowing his torture and pain was gone.

(This is my first ever attempt…never done a Quadrille before… this is for dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille # 21: Take a Breath

Treasure of the week. Soju shots- an enchanted kingdom.

Ellen tells me that soju is actually a Japanese drink. How she knows this is beyond me- she is 17 going on old soul. Anyway last week I passed a poster in a window telling me of the work of Soju shots in an upstairs room on Rathbone St. The picture immediately grabbed by imagination- it reminded me of the Henkies and I knew that Ellen and Emily would love to see the pictures, but the staircase looked a little uninviting and I was a little too scared to tackle it on my own. Instead I took a snapshot of the poster to remind myself that next time we were all in town together we might tackle the staircase. That day was Friday, my last day of freedom before returning to work on Monday, we had lunch together at Mokaba and then walked around town. Ellen and I both spotted the poster simultaneously and we instinctively knew it was time to investigate further.

The journey upstairs was reminiscent of ascending into some long forgotten flat that no-one really owned and the smell of fried food from somewhere nearby was overpowering but we continued on our journey, up the stairs along the uninviting corridor and then there it was, like the old curiosity shop of my dreams. I had anticipated a little wisened old lady standing at a till saying “yes dear” through dislodged spectacles and a few pictures to adorn the walls, but what I was met with was a far greater treasure trove. The images were fabulous, creative, imaginative, each touched with some kind of kindness and magic, even the monsters were friendly and inviting. There were tote bags, Christmas cards, mugs, cushions, and of course pictures and prints in frames. The back part of the shop was a workspace and there sat in the window was the artist himself and he was absorbed in what I assume is a new piece. He was as magical and enigmatic as his work. It was a very heart-warming experience.

We could have bought the whole shop, we loved it all, the images, their stories, the magic. We had walked into a cavern of childhood stories and memories. There they all were Hansel and Gretel, the kittens who lost their mittens the three little piggies, a huffin and a puffin and some wonderful creative ventures through new and old dreams- fears mingling with plays on words of wisdom. I purchased a few cards and Ellen a couple of Mugs. We were limited in our purchases by what we had in our wallets at the time, but we will go back. If you are looking for something a little different for a loved one this Christmas to make it special it is well worth a visit. I suspect therein is just a small sprinkling of fairydust. Peace be with you.

http://sojushots.blogspot.co.nz/

https://www.facebook.com/konbae/?fref=ts

Henkies- trolls/goblins who danced with a limp.