Friday Poem: Ambitions

Sort of a New Years resolution poem…
bush track

Oh, I would dance on mountain tops
Drink from streams of living water
Tickle trout in deep pools
Where no one goes
And ask them how they feel.

I would run beside the ocean
Feed upon the sweets of life
Call down birds with empty hands
And when they come to me
Ask them what it means to fly.

I would sleep beside the river
picnic on milk and honey on the bank
And when the day is over
And the sun is setting
Ask anyone I see, what did it mean?

eveningPhotos are from a walk I took with my two younger sons on Christmas Eve…A long, warm, golden evening, much nicer than sitting inside listening to carols. Although we did put the Weezer Christmas album on later, while we were playing Scrabble.

Friday Poem: Christmas Eve, 1981

Clearly, this in an oldy, but I vividly remember the shopping trip that inspired it! For just one day (most) shops will be closed, but …Tiny sweater

On Christmas Eve
The grimfaced shoppers pile their trolleys high,
Getting and spending,
Preparing for the siege
The season lays;
Peace on Earth,
Goodwill to men,
Can wait until tomorrow.A cup of Christmas cheer.

Only 4 more sleeps, and it will be Christmas Eve once again. We’ll have to go shopping, because we’re having a picnic lunch the next day, in The Gardens if it’s not too hot. No roast dinner and pudding for us! Everyone who has to go to the supermarket  for last minute necessities, thinks they’ll pop in and out in a few minutes. But, unlike back in Watsonia in 1981, so many people are about, and up for a  bit of Christmassy  conversation, it always takes far longer.

Once I get back home, I’ll be brewing a nice cup of chai, to, as Wodehouse put it “restore the juices”. Christmas always gets like that. Thankfully, I no longer wake up every hour or so on Christmas Eve, anticipating the unnaturally early rising of over-excited and hopeful children!