I know this pome's a little late
I've NOT had time a'plenty
I guess I could have writ a blurb
But hindsight's 2020...

Time speeds up when you get old
So look out everyone
The next time you turn around
It's 2021!!

Look now
at Fingers
cast along plain

As a dying Light
settles into the horizon
Fingers become Flood

Creeping Blackness
consumes landscape
until it’s exposed

Once the eye
and heart
Adjust

Its easy to see

darkness only exists
on the border of Light

I've had a life of sorrow,
I've lived a life of pain.
Wednesday's child. Full of woe,
I've lived a life of shame.

I won't elicit sympathy,
I won't be bright & witty
I'll simply be true to self
I surely don't want pity.

Whenever IT happened
Really matters not
But I had tragedy when young
Was by a devil caught.

IT set about a cycle
Which, like a gerbil wheel,
Made me shunned,
Made me run,
To a trap of tungsten steel.

I was trapped by drugs & vice
Alcohol & more
Accepted *** instead of love
Practically a *****.

I felt unloved. Unlovable.
Ever since a child.
So I died on the inside
Became rebellious... WILD!

I was a cheat. I was a thief.
I ripped off stores for *****.
So I was in the trap of guilt,
Could not help but lose!

I should have died SO many times!
Dragged by a speeding car
By a drug crazed jon of mine
You think THAT left a scar??

But God had SUCH mercy!
He gave me such GRACE!
Heart of stone, and yet...
HIS OWN!
No, I was NOT a WASTE!

I have no doubt I'll always have
Doubts the devil brings
But now I'm LOVED and LOVABLE!

BY THE KING OF KINGS!!!


Catherine Jarvis
12/29/2019

... birthing the words, there can
be no description for the intoxication!

breathing in the fragrance of
the ink, the wind of the
muse on your shoulders
propelling you on to choosing
words which come from the
zephyrs aroused as by
angel feathers...

there's a point where effort ends
and a clarity supernatural starts...
a point when intellect is of no use,
knowledge has no meaning...
all you ever experienced is lost
and a new reality brings on
the pangs of prismatic ******
too exquisite to be borne...

... and so the pen becomes exhausted from it's dance, and the paper becomes a magic carpet, taking the poet beyond comprehension into...

... a nebula beyond reason...

... the special place...

... no words...

... only expression.


C. Jarvis
12/28/2019

What was it like oh God so great
To be an infant small?
Did You Weep, or did you sleep
And never cry at all?

What was it like sweet Mary
To ride the night so black?
Did you smile, heavy with child
Upon a donkey's back?

What was it like dear Joseph
To know your wife would bear
God's own son, but he'd be shunned
A man of many cares?

What was it like oh wise men
To see that light appear?
To go so far to find that star
Knowing God was near?

What was it like you shepherds?
To hear the angels sing?
Were you scared when they declared
The birth of Israel's King?

What was it like you angels
To see your mighty Lord
Lying there in a Manger bare
With no mantle? Sword?

Yet that night was joyful!
In ecstasy all sang!
Or instead they bowed their heads
While praise in heaven rang!

For now the great Messiah
Was born to Trumpets blast!
What was it like that special night

Our Savior's born at last!

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/25/2019 (rewritten)

arcing toward
a dark heaven
a futile ******
earth still
binds
me
but
not
my
♡

death by flying too
close to Mars
warrior that
he is

he sent his arrows
which lanced my
♡ with such
longing it
could not
be controlled
anymore
than a
bird
is
bound
by
the
air

and, so, the tears in
night's fabric
are sewn
by
☆
☆
☆


Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/24/2019