Silent Night

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Sorry to bring the gloom once more but for a lot, it never ends, and my meagre efforts are always warmly supported by all of you and I thank you, so I guess they will be in your hearts too.   I sincerely hope that you and yours have a magical time this year.

Apart from my Daily Challenge, (Santa won’t stop me) I will be back reading/writing in the New year proper.

While chill winds flutter,
warm hearts at midnight stutter,
from deathly sounds awakening in
zestful dreams that shed daydreams.
Gusts are amiss, amid the
snowdrops and mortar strewn.
Remnants lay bitter till the end.
where absence is present,
and the present lies in ruins.
We mourn the loss of Yuletide –
where is Father Christmas?

Hope is all but silent,
eyes still shine brightly but
their minds wander
and memories take hold.
Imaginations bring sleigh bells,
illuminations cast out doubt,
ringing the changes of disbelief,
when witness to faith goes walkabout.

While warm hearts grieve
and sorrow is let loose on Christmas Eve’s
night, silence is quite rightly taken
for broken promises and snow laden dreams.
Children will sleep till the morrow
without a secret smile inside the hurt and sorrow,
Their fitful sleep will never know the footfall
of reindeers over snow,
but I hope something inside tells them
we will be there, one day safety will belong
to their nightfall –
one day – when the world finally asks,
‘Where is Father Christmas?’

Irony of War ~ Appeal

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Not only faced with the brutality of war, this winter sees a harsh reality for many – to be killed by bombing or starvation.  No doubt we have our own special charities and do the best we can, but if you have even a tiny drop to spare, please send it their way.  I was influenced by a massive campaign currently by Unicef asking on behalf of  war weary, starving people and their children this winter.  Hospitals and schools have been under increasing attack (deliberately). More and more civilians and their children are under siege and being used as human shields against the painstaking advancements that are being made; hundreds more are dying each week and thousands are displaced and hungry… add winter to all of that.  I make no apologies for trying and thank you sincerely for reading and, hopefully, for caring and making a donation.

 Winter’s naked bones
suffocate trembling hunger
A war’s wicked salve