Ask Germany for they surely know
The tales of Heil ******, death and gray snow
As the blonde Fraulein's with blue eyes
Strolled the avenues inviting and slow.
Delicate flakes kissed the putrid air
  Neath their feet lay the ashes of innocent souls
The ****** winds of approaching war and salvation would blow.

Oh Germany my liebchen
There is no denial
Mitt dear you were patriotically complacent
Turning your eyes away in shame
Pretending you could not face it

Sipping schnaps ignoring and abetting the genocide from afar
In warm cafes that closed its doors tightly shut
Smugly shunning the arm branded gold stars

6 million and counting were blindly lead to slaughter
There was no preference
Only Jews non human
Beneath their feet
It was of little matter.

Cast your eyes to the floor
For my lady you most surely did know
When the smell of fresh death filled your nostrils
Drifting down from tall stacks
  The scent of pungent thick gray snow

Some would feign surprise
Others of course truly were
But those touched by evil
Denied ****** freely committed and known  
Whence sprang the fire source
The smell of charred flesh
Into the sky ablaze the souls arose  
So came the infamous days
Of falling gray snow.

Tammy M. Darby Jan. 17, 2018.

Awaken from my sleep
With a clitter and a clatter
I sprang from bed and stubbed my toe
Wondering what in the world was the matter
  Racing down stairs I heard a little grunting and groaning
Coming from the fireplace
On the eve of Christmas morning

So up I looked and there he was alive and kicking
Certainly not dead
A white beard covered with dark **** and a woolly suit bright red

I said Hey ole man whats shaking  
You look like your sorta stuck
He replied kinda of angrily turning crimson in the face
Why no I am having lunch

Well said me you are a little fat to be sliding down a chimney
I forgot about my stocking hanging on the mantel
And after that silly remark
I could count on it being empty

So off to the kitchen in a hurry I went
Him mad and about to boil
To fetch what I needed to get the plump fool out
Some good ole crisco oil

Well I lathered him up really well
And began to pull quite hard
  In a minute or two out he popped
Still mad and breathing hard

He was sure glad to get unstuck
And asked me what I wanted for getting him out
You may not believe it but I still write a list
So I knew what his request was about

He asked me very solemnly
If throughout the year I had been good
I hemmed and hawed and weakly replied
Santa don't you think I am a little old

Give me that list he repeated
Bright cheeks all a flush
So I did what I was told without anymore argument
Him being in such a rush
He caught his breath and pulled up his red pants
Walked out the door without even a glance

The next morning I woke up laughing
What a funny strange dream
It must have been that pizza I had for dinner
Because what I had seen could never be

But upon examination
I noticed I was covered with soot and black soil
  So I looked under my tree  
And among the shiny wrapped presents
Was a brand new can of crisco oil

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Dec. 11, 2017.

Serenity under the ripe lurid sun
The steady breeze of air
From the mountain peak
Created sublime hymns
of rebirth and restoration
And filled the chasm in my heart
Through and through

Enclosed in auroras majestic luminescence
Weightless and lionhearted
Unconstrained by trivialities
Of everyday obligations
I pondered on the authenticity
Of new found clarity

As I fed on the tantalizing
aroma of euphoria
I savoured each breath

When I emerged
From the picturesque surrounds
I prayed I had abandoned all my convictions
In the field of yellow stained daffodils

.
Solemn nocturne
accompanies my night

Invisible orchestra
serenading the moon

You will sing
the chorus in this twilight

But all had ended
in a verse sung too soon

.