ordering
a Christmas wreath
for my parents’ graves
even though I know
they are not there
for Harold and Enola
Nanna’s grave says, “Born in Sweden” – my father’s mother. My mother’s mother died a year before I was born, to the day. She was German. I think my art is from her. Nanna loved her yard and I remember her kitchen. My mother and father were teachers.
The wreath is courtesy of wpclipart. I’ll add a few more pictures from there.
I keep this Christmas poem by Charles A. Waugaman (1932 – 2010) in my Pages year-round, and it is read year-round. It’s from a card he made. All Rights Reserved for his family. Charles was the editor of Time Of Singing, when I began with the journal in the late 1980s. He offered so much hope in his work.
I’m musing about Christmas and all the ways Light shines through darkness.
Some of my memories, over decades, when I could offer light and when I was given light:
Teaching a child to read who had given up hope. Reading to someone in a nursing home. Writing a poem that uplifts someone. Saying “no hurry” to someone working in a store and feeling so pressured. Creating new memories with my mother in her last illness.
Receiving words of encouragement. Someone at the grocery store insisting upon helping me, having seen fatigue on my face that day. Reading a favorite book. Looking at art from friends. The wonderful blogs I read each week. Someone understanding. God’s love.
wall of clouds
at sunrise
light along the horizon
shines and shines
on ripples of water
Christmas memories
created anew
each year
Image courtesy of
wpclipart.com.
So far below zero
even the blackbirds have left
this colorless world–
the Christmas candle
throws a circle of light
***
Caroling house to house
hands cold in fleecy mittens–
words of peace
ring out from shaky voices
to touch a steady star
By Carol Purington
Published here with her kind permission. All Rights Reserved.
Update, 12/19/2012: Here is the link to Carol’s poetry page at her family website. You’ll find more poems and information about her books. http://www.woodslawnfarm.com/p/poetry.html
Salvation Army
bell ringers
so cheerful in the cold
adding a dollar
to a Red Kettle or two
“Christmas tidings” image
courtesy of antiqueclipart.com.
I taped up a picture of you
It must have been your last
Healthy Christmas–long overdue,
But you understand
I know you do.
And I’m up early to have some
Time alone before teaching, too
And I understand even more now
You know I do.
Mom’s doing better now…
She told me how you stood
Between two railroad cars
All the way from Washington D.C.
To Chicago after World War II.
And I’m teaching my heart out
Giving essay tests, too
Pouring out my soul
Like you used to do.
It’s Christmas again, and I
Taped up a picture of you
I’m writing poems and
Taking walks–doing fine
But missing you
Has not ceased with time.
In loving memory of Harold and Enola Borgh. Your love is with me always. We shall meet again.
Published in Midwest Poetry Review (1993); Bell’s Letters (1993); The Spirit of Christmas (1994, Weems Concepts).
Also included in my chapbook, And So My Soul (2001, Elin Grace Publishing). Scripture from the King James Version of the Holy Bible. Cover and illustrations by Charles A. Waugaman. Design and Graphics by Jeffery Dickson. ISBN 978-0-9729848-0-5.
Photo of the amaryllis is by Karl.
lighting the
Christmas candle
tiny flame
transforms
the night
Published in Hermitage (2005); and The Writers’ Bistro (2007).
Poems From Oostburg, Wisconsin 