Winter Songs And Holiday Expressions:A Facebook Poetry Anthology by Frances Ayers-Editor (new books to read .TXT) 📕

is sweeter, caressing even

All sharp things are getting smoother

A smell is haunting me, or just a memory

Or just a vague craving for the snow...

Or all are fears tattooed on my heart

Where the blizzards left their mark

Or even better

Under my skin I found the snow man

The one and only survivor of melancholy

This fall

The autumn slightly changed my light

The silence will fill the birds' wings

Soon I will hear the falling leaves

Soon I will melt in the snow man within

This fall

©Iulia Gherghei,All Rights Reserved



Whispers of me

I will love you until
You'll break my every cell
Letting all energies to regroup into a new world
here
Free of the dirtiness of your love
I will love you until
Wings of the angels will fall
there
Tied by a sky prison
I will love you until
Clouds will choke me with creamy flakes
In between this dreams
I will love you until
Whispers of me will melt every inch of your will

©Iulia Gherghei,All Rights Reserved


Michelle D'costa

Michelle D’costa a.k.a The Bookworm is an Indian writer/editor raised in Bahrain. Her poems can be found in Poems of the poppies, Musings: A Mosaic, The Love Collection, The Odd Magazine and Big River Poetry Review. Her short stories have appeared in Winds of Change and Decades Review. She accepts feedback from her readers on her Facebook page- http://www.facebook.com/MichelleWendyDcosta?ref=ts





Tug of War

Christmas is a tug of war
Between the Christmas tree
And the kitchen

Candy canes
Draw me
To cotton snow,
Twinkling Baubles, Miniature Santas
Bobbing on the pines,
Christmas lights entwined,
Shimmering stars,
Unopened gifts,
Colorful Tinsel,
Wiry Wreaths,
Dreams of New Year
And Infant Jesus lying in the crib

Smells of *sorpatel and turkey
Draw me
To a feast of *Kuswar
Chocolate walnut fudge,
*Vienna Plum cake,
*Dodol, *Boliyan, *Baath,
*Pinarg, *Mandaas and Wine.

I dangle in between
Combating the fragrance of pine
And smells wafting from the kitchen
By dancing to jingle bells

(Sorpatel- Goan pork curry)
( Kuswar- Assortment of Christmas sweets of Goan/Manglorean Catholic community in India)
( Vienna- Famous bakery of India)
( Dodol, Boliyan, Baath, Pinarg, Mandaas- Goan/ Manglorean sweets)

© Michelle D’costa


Christmas Carols

I never knew that
Christmas carols
Could bring us together

The bitterness of the year
Melted away with the snow

When our voices collided
We realized we were waiting for this connection
To disperse all the previous tension

When she stumbled on lyrics
I continued, providing a crutch
For her to move on

I prayed that
This new found synchrony
Would last way past New Year

Then the music stopped
And there was no rhythm to our voices

Hers flew with the wind
Whereas mine wedged in my throat
© Michelle D’costa



Love By Candlelight

We were loving each other
In the dark
Because we had heard
Love is blind
What did it matter?
Dark or light?
Love isn’t skin-deep you said
You kept whispering how beautiful I was
You didn’t want to see me
Only feel my heart beat
Just then a flame flickered
And
You saw my extra legs obscured in cobwebs
That flicker
Reflects In your eyes even today
On the rare moments
We love in the dark

© Michelle D’costa


Snowman

I despise e-greetings
Their animations
And robotic emotions

I miss hand-held greeting cards
Which carried the smell of home

The words that escaped routine
And found refuge in holidays

The time that family members spent
Sitting by the fire admiring it crackle

The moments when children
Stood on tip-toe
To decorate their Christmas tree

The time when celebration meant
Laughter, loving and caring
And not liking, commenting and sharing

I was delighted on receiving an e-mail
On Christmas
Only to be infected with a virus

Is this what Christmas has come to?
Networking? E-greetings? Viruses?

My child calls me out to join him
Make a snowman

My parents must be wishing for me too

© Michelle D’costa


Hungry on Christmas Day

We wasted a turkey yesterday
Today a girl haunts me
She claws at my scalp
Bites my toe nails
Grinds my teeth
Gouges my eyeballs
Plucks my eyelashes
I ask her why
She says so are the symptoms of hunger
I ask her to forgive me
She tells me to look for the turkey in the trash
I tell her I don’t want to dirty my hands
She says chop them off, you are better off without them
If you can’t share
I cry at her feet asking for forgiveness
She laughs from deep within
I have never heard such a laugh before
Maybe because I have never gone hungry
On Christmas Day

© Michelle D’costa


Jane Lynahan Karklin

Currently residing in beautiful Sarasota, Florida, with her husband, David, Jane is a graduate of the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City. Although she did tread the boards for a time, Jane's first love has always been writing.She has worked in a variety of jobs, and has given poetry readings as well. In addition to her poetry, essays and short stories, Jane writes a column for her small community’s monthly newspaper. She has been published in TIPS for Writers, the anthology On the Words of Love, in all four volumes of Reflections on a Blue Planet anthology, and in a few poetry e-anthologies. Two of Jane's sons live with their families on the West Coast and one lives with his family in New England.Jane and her husband David and now have five grandsons.She enjoys the wonderful sun filled days and cultural activities that abound here in Sarasota.Life is good.


Happiness and Tears - Sonnet

I can view the sunlight as it passes
With shorter days and coming of the snow.
To those we love we now raise our glasses
And blessings of the day on them bestow.

Bells shout out their joy with every sleigh ride
As glowing embers bring us warmth at night.
Those in need we welcome to our hearthside.
The Christmas tree is beautiful with light.

Festive hours will rally in the New Year.
We wish each other well in coming days.
We recall the souls that we have held dear
Our resolutions help to change our ways.

And so our lifetime travels with the years.
Sweet happiness is intertwined with tears.

© September 28, 2012 Jane Lynahan Karklin

Published in TIPS For Writers, November 2012
and in The Meadoword December 2012



Lift a Glass

Lift a glass
To our dreams
Of other times,
Of colored lights,
Of ribboned presents
Of evening walks
On snowy streets.

Lift a glass
To the New Year.
Listen to the whispers
From the old days
And watch the stars
Flash across the sky.

© September 10, 2011 Jane Lynahan Karklin

Published in the December 2011 issue of The Meadoword


Starlight – Haiku

Snow laden branches
Gleaming with diamond starlight.
Cold breeze whispering.

© October 18, 2012 Jane Lynahan Karklin



Winter

All was a blanket of white cold
Flecks of a deep-set blue
Almost primeval, emanated
From icy boulders of snow.

Not a sound,
Save the whisper
Of an endless ghost wind
Settling upon the world.


© June 28, 2011 Jane Lynahan Karklin

Published in the January 2012 issue of The Meadoword
and in Reflections on a Blue Planet – The Four Seasons Anthology



The Mountain Snowfall (Haiku)

The mountain snowfall
Softens the peak with silence
The moon awaits dawn.

© May 14, 2012 Jane Lynahan Karklin


Pradipta Kumar Mohanty

By profession he relates to Indian Railways but by passion he finds himself among words and beauty.He can be reached at:-pradiptakumarmohanty1@gmail.com

RELATIONSHIP

Fascinating impulse
Woven into feelings
Kindles hopes
An unseen bliss,
Fluttering of heartbeats
With a leap along
For close rapport
Sprinkles the gaiety,
An unending quest
Entices the soul
For endearing desires
With spirited frenzy,
Strong emotions
Stand committed
To trace and embrace
The cherished fervor.

©Pradipta Kumar Mohanty,All Rights Reserved


LIFE

Life is far too small
Days elapse
At a great pace
So much remains undone,
Infatuated dreams
Lure my instinct
For the essence of thrills
The air of new redolence
Repels my maze,
An impassioned longing
Implores to quench
My thirst,
Yearning to live
With gusto
Enchants my rollicking heart
And propels
My pleasure
To the farthest horizon

©Pradipta Kumar Mohanty,All Rights Reserved


LOVE

Respect for feelings
Share of dreams
Affection for works
Sympathy for problems
Admiration for achievements
Care for values
Inspiration for ideas
Pity for sufferings
Faith in mind
Confidence in thought
Dedication with sincerity
Surrender with sublimity
Attract a tender heart
With a benign touch.

©Pradipta Kumar Mohanty,All Rights Reserved


PASSION

Pursuit of pleasure
Comes to me
Through the aroma of wind,
Your smile scales my ecstasy
A surge of joy
I feel,
Your emotional release of laugh
Explores my euphoric sensation
Unbridled!
I am inundated
In the showers of your love,
Indulge in fantasy
Amazingly,
An instinct desire
Spells an aura of your smell,
An expanse of your touch
On my heart
Incredibly, floats to a dizzying height.

©Pradipta Kumar Mohanty,All Rights Reserved


Freya Pickard

Freya is the author of Dragonscale Leggings and lives in a little cottage with a view of the distant sea in southern England. She runs two blogs at http://dragonscaleclippings.wordpress.com and http://purehaiku.wordpress.com


Christmas Haiku

Scents of Christmas—sharp
Resin, sweet tangerine and
Cinnamon on toast.

©Freya Pickard,All Rights Reserved


Japanese Haiku

Framing the path you
Stand on, cherry blossom falls
Like a pale, pink snow.

©Freya Pickard,All Rights Reserved

Life Within Life

Darkness in
The womb holds
Smallness so
Fragile to
Be unseen.
Heaven’s son
Enclosed in
Mortal genes.
Protected
By a girl
Who risks a
Stoning by
Religious
People and
Rejection
From her man.
Growing in
Secret, life
Within life,
Life-bringer
Starts as a
Foetus in
A woman’s
Womb. Heaven
Surrounded
By flesh and
Water. The
Tidal beats
Of her heart
The only
Sound. His ears
Once heard the
Stars rejoice,
Now his ears
Will learn to
Hear mortal
Cries and hear
His own voice
Clamor with
Them, alone.

©Freya Pickard,All Rights Reserved


Intimate Touch

Like the massive bulk of oak
So is your certainty to me,
Untouched by storm or biting breath,
Your nearness strengthens me.

Like deep draughts of potent wine
Your Spirit rests upon me,
Releasing coils of tightened nerves,
You are deep within me.

Like a bird embracing air
So this heart expands inside.
As sure as sunrise follows death,
Flame of faith re-kindles me.

©Freya Pickard,All Rights Reserved


Abigail Wyatt

Abigail was born in Essex and lives in the shadow of Carn Brea in Cornwall. She writes poetry and short fiction which, over the past five years, has been published in more than sixty outlets. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, 'Moths in a Jar' (2011) and 'Moths and Night Jars' (2012), and her collection of short fiction 'Old Soldiers, Old Bones and Other Stories' is available via One Million Stories. Abigail is a regular contributor at