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Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
I dream of a right and jolly Christmas
I don’t dream of a white or snowy Christmas
It’s very slippery and treacherous when it snows
To go to church, I wear leather shoes
And it’s easy to fall and get hurt
I don’t want to break your heart
By saying that white Christmas
Isn’t a fun or joyful time. But Midnight Mass
Is of course a joyous time. I love the Xmas carols
The gospel music, the decorations and when the bell tolls
I love a warm and holy jolly Christmas in the sunshine state
Where it’s dry, inviting and nice. It’s like being out on a date
With Mother Nature. The weather is not crabby or gloomy
The children are playing with their gifts and everybody seems happy
I don’t dream of a white or snowy Christmas
Oh ** ** **! I love a right and jolly Christmas.

Copyright © December 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
Step by step. O Woman, the Guardian Angel of my heart
I would follow you to the road of happiness
I would make enormous sacrifices to join your path
I implore you to have absolutely no doubt
I’ll find you because I love you so much, I love you
I won't care about all varieties of problems
Remember the beautiful song by Alain Barrière
I will cross borders and break down barriers
To exhume you, cherish you and love you more
As was done throughout the ages
Until you come back to me, until you ultimately come back
You and I will never, never have peace
Step by step, bit by bit, little or big step
You and I will be together under a new roof.

Despite the tides, winds and hurricanes: I love you
And I shall neither scream and nor shout that I love you.

Woman, woman of my heart, if you did not come back
Step by step, I would search the encyclopedias of secrets
To find the door to your heart and the key to your soul
I will bravely cross all borders. O Woman!
Woman of my being, I am ready to be criticized
Castigated, censored, cannonaded, even crucified and nailed
As was done throughout the ages
To resurrect love and love you more
I exhort you to nourish no, no doubt
Since you will be alone on my path, on my road.
Until you come back to me, until you ultimately come back
You and I will never, never have peace
Step by step, bit by bit, small or giant step
You and I shall carry the same cross together.

Despite rain, wind and thunder: I love you
And I shall chuckle, laugh, and smile because I love you.

P.S. Tribute to Alain Bellec (Barrière), a great singer and poet.
Translation of my poem‘ Si tu ne me revenais’.

Copyright © December 2004, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Hebert Logerie Dec 2024
The end of the year is the dawn of a new one.
The sadness and the yesterdays are all gone.
We have in front of us: a new era, a new horizon;
We are hoping and dreaming of a better season.

The moon seems to be brighter at midnight.
The migrant birds are flying very low tonight.
They are chirping, screaming, moaning and singing;
The children are happy, jumping, running and playing.

We set new goals, short deadlines and crazy wishes.
We invite friends over to enjoy novel drinks and dishes,
And we listen to old songs, which never go out of style.

The globe will not stop turning and the wonderful sun
Will not cease shining. A new season always brings new fun.
We need to relax, be more realistic, laugh more and smile.

Hebert Logerie - Sunday, December 30, 2012
Hebert Logerie is the author of numerous poetry books.
I was created from air and tears.
I was born from humility,
which is foreign
to this land, to unknown skies.

I do not want to be a dream
that disperses in darkness;
I do not want to remind of existence,
which misses the lie.

With each subsequent vision
I come closer to a universe
that, hastily invented, does not associate
with tenderness,
does not connect with silence.

Please think, before the last tear,
the definitive flame of a smile,
falls asleep in you.
My body, divided into chapters,
becomes an apocalypse,
for which it is worth visiting paradise,
admitting sadness.

I do not want the future
to belong entirely to me.
I do not want the reflections of shadows
to hurt my heart.

I watch your illusions furtively -
I am leaving this place, looking for
another penance.
I will no longer dance as the ballad desires,
as the dream indicates.

I will not become the foundation
for senses.
Zywa Dec 2024
Happiness, what's that?

It has many names, little --


of them is correct.
Novel "The Green Knight" (1993, Iris Murdoch), chapter 4 Eros

Collection "Unspoken"
"True happiness blooms when you fall in love......
                       .........with the person you see in the mirror every day."
selflove
Zywa Dec 2024
Party-time today,

the world turns yellow: the stars --


my heart and my love.
Song "Yellow" (2000, Chris Martin, Coldplay), album "Parachutes" --- Film "Bird" (2024, Andrea Arnold)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
Lizzie Bevis Dec 2024
Joy
She is easily found in the little things,  
In dewdrops glistening in the first ray of light,  
As sparrows sing their happy melodies,  
In the chorus of the morning's gentle recite.

She lives within each day awakening,  
In rainfall's soft, percussive song,  
And in countless fleeting moments
That proved remarkable all along.

She lingers in winter's misty breath,  
Rising softly through the morning chill,  
And in autumn's amber warmth,  
As leaves whirl and dance at the wind’s will.

You’ll find her in the sunset,  
In a bittersweet encore that soars,  
And in content hearts that quietly know  
She will visit them once more.

I've learned to never cage her spirit,
Nor beg with her to remain,  
But to welcome her like the sunrise  
When joy chooses to brighten my day.

©️Lizzie Bevis
I was inspired to write this poem this morning as I stood outside in the chilly English air and I quietly listened to the bird song for a few moments. I exhaled, I smiled and found myself content with everything around me.
It is remarkable what little things can bring us joy.
I hope that this poem brings you a little bit of joy too. 🙂
dead poet Dec 2024
a petal wafts through the fields;
as though a cradle for the morning dew
forged by winter’s labour.

the flower remains anonymous.
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