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 Dec 2012 Holly W
Muggle Ginger
26 angels have arrived for orientation
Taken from the world without hesitation
Heaven is a little more crowded:
There’s a place already prepared
At least tonight those who’ve passed,
Will rest in God’s care

Buried under heartbreak, Newtown still stands
Worlds changed, for this kid and the next
“Kids, 2 +2 is…” BANG -
Children were unable to protect,
Themselves or their friends

Gunshots filled the air
Instead of love that should be there

Flags at half-staff, leave us half-hearted
Soo many, like too many,
Will spend their Christmas
With families torn apart
And no New Years resolution
Can make up for the inhuman execution

May we ever look to love unconditionally.
My greatest empathies go to those in Newtown, CT. Lives have been irreversibly altered, and in the words of President Obama, "our hearts are broken."
 Dec 2012 Holly W
Edward Searson
The wind elopes with golden leaves,
Forsaking sad and naked trees,
The glade lies still and holds its breath,
As winter steals into its bed.
The sudden touch of icy fingers,
The frosty breath that chills and lingers,
Slows life and sends it off to dream,
As plant and beast lie in wait of spring.
Under a pristine, snowy blanket,
Life slows and slumbers and it dreams,
Hardly a creature stirs the silence,
And frigid stillness reigns supreme.
The snowy veil ebbs and parts, behold:
Warm sun rays loosen winter’s hold!
And life awakens from its slumber,
With renewed zeal and full of wonder.
 Dec 2012 Holly W
Jillyan Adams
An arm hung across the rubble,
draped like a broken swan neck,
decorated by intricate patterns of blood and dust.

I couldn't have known who the arm belonged to, but in that moment
I was sick
to my stomach
with devastating surety.

Those were the fingers that had twined through mine in gestures of
love and
desperation,
painted my arms
in strokes of comfort, and of loneliness.

The palm that had confidently gripped a weapon,
and had carried groceries
into the house.
Palms that had pressed hopelessly against rain-washed glass and
gently
against tearstained cheeks.
Those palms that willingly cradled my uneasy heart.

And the arm.
The arms that stretched into
the sparkling star-strewn sky,
the grey and
pouring rain,
the sun-baked air rippling in waves across that embrace.  
Arms that had wrapped around a struggling body
with grim purpose and
aching heart,
softly beneath a wiggling puppy and its
pink kisses,
easily against the warmth of my breakable ribs.

I saw the broken swan and I felt something heavy,
maybe my heart,
slip from limp fingers and
break
into glittering shards
decorated by intricate patterns of blood and dust.
 Dec 2012 Holly W
Jon Martin
Someday, you will find these words,
And I hope you find them wise.
Someday you will read this verse,
With old, and tired eyes.
One day I will write a song,
That's happy, just for you.
And if you've ever known me, love,
You'll see me in that, too.
 Dec 2012 Holly W
Jon Martin
I had to write for you, love,
Because sometimes a father must
Hide the things that hurt you,
And your pure unflinching trust.
The gentle hugs, the softest laugh,
I take in all I can.
But now I must be honest, dear,
Your father's just a man.
I've loved and laughed, cried and hurt,
I've seen miracles come true,
But know this child, from all I've seen,
There's no miracle like you.
I'll always try to be there,
To be everything you need
I'll always fight beside you,
And for you gladly bleed.
But when the watchman comes,
And it's time to say goodbye,
Know this then, when I am gone -
You're the reason I'm alive.
This was written in a very dark time. The last two lines are pretty literal.
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