"grogan" poems - Hello Poetry

Talk to me, talk to me of Old St. Nick Talk to me of Sinterclaus Of Mikulas, Pere Noel, or Babbo Natale Talk to me of candles, christingle and a silent night Talk to me of crackers, carols and calamities Talk to me of snow, sleighs, and stars Talk to me of Christmas cards, wrapping paper Talk to me of gold, old spice and mice Talk to me of icing, icicles igloos, ivy Holly Oh sweet Hollie Tots of Drambuie Marmalade and toast Talk to me of Philip Scholfield Carols From Kings Mary Poppins Scrooge Festive films Radio Times And things that are too pretty Lights, nights Hark, Dark barking dogs tinsel Tinsel Town Wolves at the door Salvation Army playing once more Talk to me Talk to me Cream Crackers, cheese Frosty mornings, old knees Talk to me of snow covered alpine forests Gateaux Cherries walnuts and berries Festive fun, A seasonal run Of All Gold telly With a full belly Farts, sprouts Turkey that tastes just like chicken Oh talk to me of Terry Wogan Rosh Jogan Grogan Josh Last minute deals Black Friday White Friday And all the Cyber Mondays Talk to me of Happy Mondays Dancing Bez In a Festive Fez Talk to me Talk to me Of Festive time Late nights Early mornings Beer Cheer All in entertainment Oh talk, TALK to me Of hangovers, sleep overs gloves mittens and cute kittens Oh talk to me of fake Chanel Faux Fur and underwear Celvin Klein Talk to me , Talk to me of Jonah Lewie Bony M The Pogues and all those rogues Fairy tale of New York Stop the Cavalry Mary's Boy Child And the Spaceman who came riding by Oh talk, Talk , Talk to me of places, and spaces We all know Christmas markets Tesco, Aldi and John Lewis Adverts showing Christmas is coming Christmas is coming Christmas is coming Chris Oh talk to me Oh talk to me of old St. Nick Talk to me Talk to me Eggnog Talk to me Talk to me Bah humbug Talk to me Talk to me Happy Christmas

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Dec 19, 2019

Dec 19, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC

nick-strong

Ode to St. Nick

Talk to me, talk to me of Old St. Nick Talk to me of Sinterclaus Of Mikulas, Pere Noel, or Babbo Natale Talk to me of candles, christingle and a silent night Talk to me of crackers, carols and calamities Talk to me of snow, sleighs, and stars Talk to me of Christmas cards, wrapping paper Talk to me of gold, old spice and mice Talk to me of icing, icicles igloos, ivy Holly Oh sweet Hollie Tots of Drambuie Marmalade and toast Talk to me of Philip Scholfield Carols From Kings Mary Poppins Scrooge Festive films Radio Times And things that are too pretty Lights, nights Hark, Dark barking dogs tinsel Tinsel Town Wolves at the door Salvation Army playing once more Talk to me Talk to me Cream Crackers, cheese Frosty mornings, old knees Talk to me of snow covered alpine forests Gateaux Cherries walnuts and berries Festive fun, A seasonal run Of All Gold telly With a full belly Farts, sprouts Turkey that tastes just like chicken Oh talk to me of Terry Wogan Rosh Jogan Grogan Josh Last minute deals Black Friday White Friday And all the Cyber Mondays Talk to me of Happy Mondays Dancing Bez In a Festive Fez Talk to me Talk to me Of Festive time Late nights Early mornings Beer Cheer All in entertainment Oh talk, TALK to me Of hangovers, sleep overs gloves mittens and cute kittens Oh talk to me of fake Chanel Faux Fur and underwear Celvin Klein Talk to me , Talk to me of Jonah Lewie Bony M The Pogues and all those rogues Fairy tale of New York Stop the Cavalry Mary's Boy Child And the Spaceman who came riding by Oh talk, Talk , Talk to me of places, and spaces We all know Christmas markets Tesco, Aldi and John Lewis Adverts showing Christmas is coming Christmas is coming Christmas is coming Chris Oh talk to me Oh talk to me of old St. Nick Talk to me Talk to me Eggnog Talk to me Talk to me Bah humbug Talk to me Talk to me Happy Christmas

101

When my cold, gray body lay in dark wet ground In that day when my voice no longer sounds Remember me who loved you more Remember me who loved you most (And meet someday on heaven’s shore) You and I as partners have run the Kingdom road For us to leave and forsake were not mere words We followed His grace and heard His voice Stored up treasure in the life to come please forgive me If for a moment I lost sight of heaven’s prize and in my weak folly was lowered in your eyes Walk backward my love and forget those days Walk backward with a mantle of grace and let love cover my naked shame Remember me who loved you more Remember me who loved you most George Grogan

0

Jul 19, 2017

Jul 19, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC

georgegrogan

Remember Me Who Loved You Most

When my cold, gray body lay in dark wet ground In that day when my voice no longer sounds Remember me who loved you more Remember me who loved you most (And meet someday on heaven’s shore) You and I as partners have run the Kingdom road For us to leave and forsake were not mere words We followed His grace and heard His voice Stored up treasure in the life to come please forgive me If for a moment I lost sight of heaven’s prize and in my weak folly was lowered in your eyes Walk backward my love and forget those days Walk backward with a mantle of grace and let love cover my naked shame Remember me who loved you more Remember me who loved you most George Grogan

20

Like an ash from a flame fallen to the ground… I am cold, gray and dead. Like an ember once amid the flames burning bright I am thrown down and trampled underfoot. George Grogan

0

Jul 19, 2017

Jul 19, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC

georgegrogan

Dead In Depression

Like an ash from a flame fallen to the ground… I am cold, gray and dead. Like an ember once amid the flames burning bright I am thrown down and trampled underfoot. George Grogan

8

Depression I awoke with a start. My legs ****** as if I had walked off the edge of my dream. But there was no dream they had spent themselves long ago. I sat up and choked on the black ash of depression… ……dark and bitter, filling my mouth… leaving it parched and dry… I can’t muster the effort to spit, so I swallow the lump in my throat. My heart like a dried and withered gourd can no longer remember what it was like to feel. How many days, (or is it lifetimes) have I been numbed, dumbed and dim? So empty and grey I cannot move. My mind turns slowly …. like a sick, paltry shadow, crawling behind. …. a hollow caricature of days gone by. I know that I was once passionate and energetic, And life more than a word. My eyes flick back and forth mometarily as I try to conjure up the images and recall the times. But like a wisp of smoke they simply tease my memory and drift away before I can grasp them. I hear the voice of my family as they move around in a different world not a black and white like my own. Like a video shot in some colormatic astounding fluorescent film. They are in high speed, high definition, high resolution, their voices like sing song …. …..Grate on my nerves. ….like trying to listen to a 45 record on high speed. I don’t resent their joy because that would require more feeling than I can muster. They look in on me and I hear the worry in their voices. the little one asks “he won’t die will he, mom? ” Poor, little, precious one, … doesn’t know I am already dead. I lay back down and close my eyes Everything is dark…. And I am empty and alone. By Michael Jarrett copyright 2005 George Grogan

0

Jul 16, 2017

Jul 16, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC

georgegrogan

Depression

Depression I awoke with a start. My legs ****** as if I had walked off the edge of my dream. But there was no dream they had spent themselves long ago. I sat up and choked on the black ash of depression… ……dark and bitter, filling my mouth… leaving it parched and dry… I can’t muster the effort to spit, so I swallow the lump in my throat. My heart like a dried and withered gourd can no longer remember what it was like to feel. How many days, (or is it lifetimes) have I been numbed, dumbed and dim? So empty and grey I cannot move. My mind turns slowly …. like a sick, paltry shadow, crawling behind. …. a hollow caricature of days gone by. I know that I was once passionate and energetic, And life more than a word. My eyes flick back and forth mometarily as I try to conjure up the images and recall the times. But like a wisp of smoke they simply tease my memory and drift away before I can grasp them. I hear the voice of my family as they move around in a different world not a black and white like my own. Like a video shot in some colormatic astounding fluorescent film. They are in high speed, high definition, high resolution, their voices like sing song …. …..Grate on my nerves. ….like trying to listen to a 45 record on high speed. I don’t resent their joy because that would require more feeling than I can muster. They look in on me and I hear the worry in their voices. the little one asks “he won’t die will he, mom? ” Poor, little, precious one, … doesn’t know I am already dead. I lay back down and close my eyes Everything is dark…. And I am empty and alone. By Michael Jarrett copyright 2005 George Grogan

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