A widow in her fifties she was.
Lived in petty hut made out of straws.
Had no relatives dwelt all alone.
Only neighbours were her own.

Loved much her neighbour's child.
Cute little girl, dulcet and mild.
Twas little girl's birthday that day.
Widow was very glad and gay.

Birthday party was held that night.
She waited if someone would invite.
One by one invitees were coming.
With guests house was humming.

Lonely Widow waited in togs bright.
Gazed at house adorned with lights.
Poor woman! her wait had no end.
looking at house hours she spend.

When guests started coming out;
Wait was over and there was no doubt.
She stood and took a breath deep;
And walked towards her bed to sleep.

Upon her faithful frame togs
Of beauty hangs;
Rosy robe, smelling myrrh.


All the go love is unambiguous--
Nought hid; clear
Like glass, soft like foulard.

Body
Turns
Weighted
Togs

Cementing
Churning
Cogs

Night
After
Night

No
Limbs
Splayed

No sins
Displayed

No
Sacrifice

A slight
Amount
Of
Pleasure

A stray
Duck
Down
Feather

Resting
On
Thick
Skin

Tickles

Thin
Skin
Protected
Covered

By
Togs
And
Cogs

Cemented
Hides

Winding up by the sea

Even the grown-ups appear content
as the first paces of evening
bring a freshening breeze with them.

Time for packing,
beachballs to deflate,
togs to wring out

and uncomfortable grains of sand
to wash away from the nigglies of one's toes
by the cold-water tap
at the local strong smelling
convenience.

Over the ocean
we rail and scream

Timbers shiver timbers quiver
Groans grate our ears
with the wind whipping and wailing

Not the cold nor the rain
nor icicles on our backs
nor hammers on our limbs

A rusty machine
we churn butter
and churn
our wheels and togs and clogs and gears
turn

So the ship rolls over the ocean
leaps and bounds in between
like a gazelle at home
we the tics, the leeches, and the virus's
who cling to the host
for dear life

when grainy seas
are wholly shrilly
their fulcrum grants coquille
with hair's tied asunder
till this expedition cloud
will turn her under again

when they'd dock by her mountains
in the rain of yesterday's news
while their heels soon die
in the murky waters nigh
by the sunset or tomorrow
if she'll be with me again
in woebegone togs

This song, it won't berate you
It won't, the Bible, beat
It's only a reminder
It's not meant to defeat.

It won't put you down at all
Once I was where you sit
It won't proselytize at all
(Well, maybe just a bit).

We enjoy the holidays, right?
With friends & family round!
We await the "Jolly Elf"
And happiness abounds!

RIGHT?

Deck the halls and celebrate!
Put on festive togs!
Put the roast beast in the oven
Burn those yuletide logs!

Christmas or Winter Solstice?
Does it matter, folks?
We're having FUN this time of year...
Laughing! Telling jokes!

RIGHT?

That's true of many people
But do ALL withstand the test?
There are those who have no family
Not all of us so blessed.

Those of us who have our friends
May not understand
But when you have nobody
Holidays ain't so grand.

(Chorus)

Those of us despondent
At this time of year
When everything seems gloomy
A light CAN, in us, appear!

No. Holidays aren't for everyone
No Christmas cards to send
But when you know a Savior

YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE A FRIEND.

(BRIDGE)
So let's light a candle
It is NOT THE END
Once you accept Jesus Christ
You'll always have a friend!

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/23/2019

I was at a funeral recently, a work colleague, a nice lady
Her father had passed away
I was surprised to learn that she was an only child
And that her Dad...her Dad was a 'steeplejack' of all things
Yea he used to climb up and repair church steeples or build church steeples, whatever steeplejacks do
I wondered amusingly Did he ever try and get her in on the trade
"C'mon up here Sarah, there's a great view from up here" He! He!"
Later on in the service one of his nephews got up to give the eulogy
He talked about what a special man he was
I thought to myself, You'd want to be a special man to be a steeplejack
Me! I get dizzy standing on a chair
You'd want to have your head ******* on the right way doing that job
One mistake and you're... you're history
I thought his poor wife must have been a nervous wreck waiting for him to come home
He'd lived into his nineties (90's)
His wife had died just a few years previously
He sounded like... like quite a character.

I was reminded then of an old school Pal of mine... Tom from primary school (kindergarten)
When we used live by the sea
Tom was a great swimmer he'd won loads of trophies
There was an outdoor swimming pool in our village
And you'd often see him heading up to the pool
He'd have his towel and togs under his arm
He used to walk on top of the sea wall when he'd be going up the village
And there was this part of the sea wall that was very high
There was about a 15 to 20 foot drop onto the road on one side
And an even bigger drop of 30 to 40 feet onto the rocks on the other side
And the width of the wall was just around a foot and had little ruts in it (uneven surface) that you could easily trip on if you weren't careful
And he used walk on this like a tightrope walker yea!
And we used to watch him in awe with our mouths wide open in amazement
Asking ourselves 'How could he do that ?
What the hell was going on in his head that he could do such a thing ?
If he fell he'd be killed outright or certainly crippled
And no one would ever say anything to him, they'd just say "Oh! That's just Tom"...
One day coming home from school he took me into the swimming pool
He knew all the people who worked there
On this day they were cleaning the pool and had emptied out all the water
So what does Tom do but go out onto the 'diving board ' and starts bouncing up and down on it
And there's a drop of 20 to 30 feet onto the hard cement of an empty swimming pool
If he fell he'd be breaking his neck or his legs
Crazy!
He came to our house one time, now there used to be this big rocky outcrop that used come right up to the back of our house
We used to call it 'the Cliff', it was made up of all these big rocks and loose slatey type rocks and sand
It was as high as the house itself
We were all soccer ⚽ mad in those days, we used run up the steps to the back garden to play (was on top of the cliff)
We'd be looking over at the chimneys on the house
Tom came visiting one day, when we went out the back and he seen the Cliff
He announced straightaway "I'm going to climb that"
We said "You're crazy!"
We left him there bemused and went off to play our game
About 30 minutes later Tom appears at the side of our soccer pitch having climbed up from below...
And he could hardly kick a football, he just wasn't interested in that... wasn't interested
Inside his head he had...he had his own way to go.

On a sunny day in Atlantic City in 1921,
Margaret Gorman, called Maggie, was registered as Miss District of Columbia in an inter-city contest sponsored by newspapers to support local business,
from which were culled the girls,
The so-called ‘beauties’ undressed on the beach & in swim togs paraded themselves so the sundry men & boys can see their ankles. At 16 Maggie was declared "The Most Beautiful Bathing Girl in America" & has henceforth become known as the first "Miss America". That may not mean much to u now but in a few short centuries women will predominantly rule the world; (think of Joan of Arc)
men abdicating into apathetic passivity.
Miss America will be seen as a harbinger of the more formal position of Queen of the World.
This woman will (like Evita)
not be elected but selected from among silent competitors;
bots programmed to serve as mere female stand-ins
composed of a single female identity;
these several entities taking off their various garments to reveals facets of their physical selves. The 'bathing beauty' model is meant to represent the female person as a direct manifestation of perfection; teenage Mary,
mother of the christ-child
living flesh given mind & sense; (think Cleopatra's clear eyes)
sulking over her man but a spectator
in the crowd; her lover an astronaut from far off times
where she is ever **** even beneath her clothes,
as we all know, & a dancer & funny & wonderful;
she can create undying gardens; man & bee 1;
woman 1 w/ the svelte ant; sometimes grumpy,
sometime raggy we love her unconditionally;
the dictatorial neo-Victorian Queen of the World
will not be a ******; descendant of the first Miss America flapper Maggie Gorman & direct offspring of Aphrodite.