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I will drag your predation  to mine
to mix it and prepare it as a perfect wine.
I will not leave your line
until I make sure that our gloom is fine.
trust this dust-path and this shrine
of our love that will always mar the sunshine.
thinking you’ll save me from pain
lies fill your breath but I know the truth
you keep it hidden from me
then disappointment enters my heart
but I called you my best friend
“i love you”
those words
                      d
                         r
                           i
                             p
                               p
                                 e
                                   d
                                      from his lips
i believed his deceitful manner
his charisma, it was alluring
I think most people take this as an s.o. but it could be anyone who stopped loving you a friend, a parent to just deceive you to get what they want from you. I also thought of the devil as I wrote this, he deceives you and feeds you with lies to follow him.
We are the face of Christmas
If you’ll look inside you’ll see
In a place where only children hide
That’s where the face will be.

The Christmas bell ringing on the door
As I exit the small downtown store on 5th and Main.
It reminds me once again that it is Christmas.
On the sidewalk a cold North wind flushes my cheeks red,
I tighten my scarf tighter around my neck.

I round a corner and just across the street I see several
Gathered around a large table, all waiting in a line.
Curious, I cross the street and take up my place.
I look around the line to see a sign that says –

“The Real Santa Clause- $1.00”

One by one people step up to the old man behind
The table and hand him a dollar –
The old man reaches into a large red bag under the table
And produces a small doll of Santa Clause.

One step at a time I move closer to the old man until
It is almost my turn to give him a dollar.
I watch as those in front of me walk away with their doll,
Each one walking a few steps away and then they abruptly stop,
Looking back to the old man, their eyes with a questioning awe.

It’s my turn – finally - I step up to the table with my dollar in my hand.
I hold out my dollar and then it becomes clear to me that the old man is blind
For I have to find his open hand to place the dollar into.
He accepts the payment and opens the red bag feeling for my prize.

The old man chants “Merry Christmas” as he hands me the doll
Seeming to talk more to the doll than he was to me.
Receiving the doll I repay the emotion returning the “Merry Christmas.”
The old man nodding his head as if to say yes all the while.

Walking away I look down at the Santa Clause figure in my hand.
I notice one piece of clothing that doesn’t seem to fit.
The doll has a scarf wrapped around its head.
It’s a tiny copy of...
Of the scarf that I am wearing!

Quickly I unwrap the scarf from Santa’s face and find –

The face on my Santa

IS ME

We are the face of Christmas
If you’ll look inside you’ll see
In a place where only children hide
That’s where the face will be.
Hopefully this piece will remind all of us what Christmas is really about.
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