The pleasant Autumn Is turned to mean exclusions Of clouded Winter, Ebon ravens take to air, Love may languish, vanish there. Costliest of days When time slows in dreamless sleep, Moments like thick soup Mire us, one – forever – all, Discordant voices, loud, call. Faces of comfort Covered in veils kin to fog, Starlight gleaming eyes No longer lit from within, Payment price for frigid loss. Relentless saunters Hope in allure to parade Reminding one, all, Better days return, arrive, Together again arise.
It was a difficult time for most, worse for other ones. I struggled with pain and attitude. Rummaged, through my mind for what I might do, came up with a solution. The trick will be if I continue to completion.
I have not done a major mailing of cards since 2010. Then I did so many I have left it be until now. I went to my stash and brought out a plethora of boxes with a variety of Christmas Cards.
The reason I went so long since the last mailing is my personalizations. I use the blank inside page to write a message tailored to my recipient.
2020 is an incredible year. It has been full of fear and unease. Maybe a card will be a welcome diversion. I know writing each one will consume me for a bit.
As a prompt, I encourage you, especially if you feel awash with negativity, to extend your creativity to writing cards or letters to those for whom you care. You need not go to extreme expense; just let others know you care in your own words.
Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. If you would like, follow the site; or come back as time and inclination permit.
Show me the stars captured In the deepness of your eyes, Lead me into the qualities You are careful to disguise; Do not hide your ingenuity Behind a persona you provide, Come to me wide open, no filter, For we together can create A utopia, ours, side by side.
We were sitting around the table Almost ready for the feast, A little one said the blessing, Then we raised our eyes from prayer; My heart skipped for a moment, I could not help but see The absence of the ones who Should properly be seated with me. Over the years, the chairs have emptied – Much too often, much too soon, Some went away, others to their tombs, Tears puddled my eyes, my breath a stitch, I only wish I could mend what is missing, Bring all of them back where they belong, But only Heaven holds such power, its King, To redress the deprivations of time’s seizure.
You must be logged in to post a comment.