Friday, December 25, 2009

Holiday in Iambic pentameter





The morning woke to a cold winter shudder
Cold freezing fog my lenses did cover
Descending Fox Hollow shivering cold
To visit the family I did go.

Warm cups of coffee and cinnamon rolls
Woke up our spirits as gifts they did show
Themselves from under the tree where we
Sat all around, faces pictures of glee.

Noon came and went, our stomachs they rumbled
Amongst bits of papers torn and crumpled
With purpose then to the kitchen we went,
Shoved in the oven a goose that was spent.

We feasted once more like good people should
To show ourselves that when we could, we would
We tipped back some bubbly and toasted the year
Filling ourselves with good holiday cheer.

Night came too soon as happens in winter
And soon the festive group it did splinter
To home and towards beds that we each had made
All warm and full, maybe in a slight daze.

Pedaling home, feet turning slow circles
Darkness around, nose turning purple
I spied two figures under a small bridge
Like a ghost in the night towards them I slid.

As I got closer I thought I could hear
A sound from under some cans of their beer
Where a small radio broadcasted low
A song about reindeer, frost, and the snow.

Under the bridge with no light and no heat
Two people swayed to their own special beat
Without geese or beds, simple or fancy
Gave to each other gifts of their dancing.

And though we pass as simple observers
Others who live without our fine fervor
Remember that luck is not a birthright
Give thanks to that which keeps you warm tonight.