Thoughts Between Sleeping

Turning a blind eye to the truth…
…does not alter it.

It is in admitting defeat, not in waking…
…that separates the dreamer from the dream.

Truth is not an opinion or an option…It IS

If every snowflake ever that fell
Would symbolize a year in heaven or hell
…it would still in completion be
But the first breath of eternity

If we handled every moment
As though it could be our last
We would not bear the torment
Of a could-have, should-have past

Fat, thin
Short, tall
Lord God
Made us all

To wish for what is not
Is to waste what is

Harsh words are claw-scratches on a tender soul

There is no darkness so fierce, that a spark cannot pierce.

Have you ever watched the twilight move in?
It takes layers of darkness to extinguish light
And one little star to dispel utter darkness

Janet~

I can't remember all of them, but it seemed like words pressed sleep from my eyes last night, resulting in a series of dozes rather than sound sleep...too much sitting/eating, perhaps?

Year...

Her name doth not bespeak her guild
Her countenance of mystery
Maiden, both tender and strong-willed
The fore-runner to history
Just one humble four-letter word
To sum a twelve-month portal
Of grief and healing, joy and hurt
Weaving her gown immortal
We ponder, as we tread upon
The remnant of her garment
Translucent threads from dusk to dawn
To dusk, soon will be dormant
With ardent hope we strain to see
The form of her successor
As this year follows faithfully
Her silent predecessor
And we, with sentimental tear
Murmur a farewell homage
She slips away, another Year
To history’s steadfast visage
Her bosom bears the moment where
We wept our bitter sorrow
Or yielded in a humble prayer
The dread of life’s tomorrow
She carries on her pallid lips
The echo of four seasons
And disappears, into the mist
As midnight tolls her leaving
With her she takes each tick of time
That formed her ethereal being
Away, into archaic climes
No eye beholds her fleeing
For we have turned with song and cheer
To greet a form untarnished
Behold, behold a virgin Year
Waits where the old has vanished

Janet~

Time's Composition

On autumn’s golden aftermath
December spreads an argent path
Warm trails once green with wanderlust
Lie dead and still in winter’s dusk
And where the song of meadow lark
Once tuned the hour before dark
The wind prevails with solemn moan
A low and moody winter song

Summer’s gentle melancholy
That stirred the midnight willow tree
Has donned a keen and somber note
From winter’s cold and sullen throat
No breeze to softly sigh or taunt
The cool and shaded lover’s haunt
But from the stripped and barren dell
The plaintive tune of winter’s knell

And here we pause to contemplate
The worth of moments we create
As through its kaleidoscope we peer
At patterns layered year on year
Where swiftly fleeting hours transcend
Beyond the visages of men
And winter plays its chilling lay
Then slips to fields of yesterday

Oh, touch the bow to transient strings
And listen to the song it sings
Dance to the music of the hour
For soon the earth reclaims its flower
On autumn’s golden aftermath
The winter sheds its temporal wrath
As Time composes breath by breath
A melody from life to death

Janet~

Sometimes it seems we mark seasons by the transition of the familiar, and it struck me as I was out on my run today, that I am faithfully seduced by the beauty of every season!
The stretch I run is marked by seasonal beauty and song...in spring the wind laughs,in the summer it sighs, in the autumns it is restless and moody and in the winter it moans...

The End of the Ball

http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/2011/12/mag-97.html

She parts her lips in a paper smile
it is to late to retrieve
innocence
so she waves and laughs for a little while
other throats to appease
and at a glance
she appears to have it all
but the keen observer
is not deceived
behind darkened lashes
lies a haunted void
of grief and need
silencing the infamous laugh
as she signs off her debt

Janet

A Christmas Song

Hail the fruit of Mary’s womb

In joyous celebration

Hail the Victor of death’s tomb

With hope’s grand exaltation

For this is He who sent His Son

And gave to us a Christmas song

Hail, the hand that held the nails

So we may be forgiven

Hail this love that never fails

And seals our hope in Heaven

Come gather ‘round and bend your knee

Hail, hail the One who sets men free

Hail, the Seed of mystery

The God who put on flesh

To walk among humanity

And suffer unto death

Lift up your heart and lift your voice

Mankind has reason to rejoice

Hail the King on Heaven’s throne

The Babe whom angels heralded

The Son who passed through Caesar’s stone

Where roman soldiers guarded

Hail Jesus Christ, God’s precious Son

Who gave to us a Christmas song

Janet~

All over the world our voices unite

To hail the King on this holy night!

It's beginning to feel and smell and look and taste a lot like Christmas!

Here is a peek of Christmas prep at the Martin's.

A Child's Ecstasy...

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2011/12/word-with-laurie.html

'I just have no idea what this could be!'
she says as she peeks under the tree
continuing to explore and shake,
and find the packages with her name
as starlight dances in her gaze
and angels light the smile on her face.

Mom~

Ho, Ho, Ho;)) I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Santa been workin’ extra hard this year

Santa gonna need some of his own Christmas cheer

Santa deserves a special delight

So give your Santa some lovin’ tonight

All year long he seems forgot

And doesn’t seem to need a lot

No one thinks of his needs because

After all, he's Santa Claus

Santa been lookin’ a little tired of late

So don’t just leave cookies on that Christmas plate

Leave him some kisses, and after his milk

Show him a little delight in silk…

…Santa’s been working so very hard

Santa is looking a little tired

Santa' is needin' some ho, ho, ho

So grab him beneath the mistle-toe

Janet~