Carol of the bells shes the lady
in her arm chair twinkles
Any state jeweled fair
Prayers of garland birds
Zip it Zircon pardon me
December remember the stone
Triumph tanzanite  He's

"Superman Crimsonite"
Debutante Peacock turquoise
Applause noise and noise
"Princess Owl State Fair"
Violin ballantine clock
Her heart key silent night lock
The artist ceilng sings
"Cheeks divine she blushes

Silk fine print brushes"    
Pointsetta ruby wings
"Thomas Kincade" walls
Light the promenade
Princess gown wanderlust
Power pride sleigh ride
Eyes of the owl lady stunner

Plays royalty no brainer
"Princess Owl" tree topper

the meeting point between antifreeze and rot
undiscovered worlds in a stupid sheet of ice
i rake my leaves and ***** a flurry
from that strange backed-up faucet, my mouth.

Christmas lights aglow in the night
Hot fire-places blazing all cozy and bright
Romance blossoms like a white rose
Icicles reflecting the light as it snows
Santa is coming tonight; Be sure to close your eyes tight
Tree alight as he sneaks in just out of sight
Memories under the tree as he works his magic
Angels of our loved ones looking down all ecstatic
Seasons to lift the spirits of all; Merry Christmas one and all.

Seldom do I hear your three syllables
Ringing along the airwaves
Seldom does anyone fighting
After the war to end all wars
Consider you or think about
A cessation of arms

We even gave you a different name
Armistice, how did you become
So out of favor?

Let the world pause once again
On the eleventh hour
Of the eleventh day
Of the eleventh month
So we may sing, dance and discover
The joys of your three syllables
Ringing along the broadcast’s airwaves

Stillness
heat haze shimmering
distorting hedgerows and landscape
alive with nature buzzing, chirping, fluttering
continual motion,
though
we feel like lazing, resting not sweating
absorbing heat and radiation
drawn to beaches to sit like the terraced
houses we inhabit, still on each other's
doorstep next to a sea lapping the sand
bringing down walls of castles and mounds
built on the memories of childhood
we will one day treasure to measure
the enjoyment we will pass on
of halcyon days, in summer sun.

He walks the end of the pier, alone
No home to go to,
A ghost in ragged clothes
Passing among the crowds,
Unseen and unheard
But he always feeds the gulls,
Their noisy raucous squabbling
Over a few scraps of bread,
Reminds him of how unhappy
All these tourists really are,
Pretending to enjoy their holiday
Kidding themselves they are free.

Have a happy happy birthday Mark
You are very nice and smart
I hope your life is full of cheer
Not just today-but throughout the year!

Pulling the curtains

I open up a day off:


hi bird, hi-i wind!