Joy of Christmas

Here are some very heartwarming poems I would like to share with u gals and guys to celebrate the spirit of Christmas. Not all of us are Christians and celebrate Christmas (including me) but let us all learn the good things from the upcoming Christmas such as feed our souls with love....

About Friendship

Friendship is like the breeze,
You can't hold it,
Smell it,
Taste it,
Or know when it's coming,
But you can always feel it,
And you'll always know it's there,
It may come and then go,
But you can know it'll always be back.

- Terri Fanning -

Have you ever felt like you knew someone a long, long time ago,
Another place, another time, a friendship of the souls?
Two people who share a bond for reasons neither know,
A feeling that they were friends, a long, long time ago?

Did they stumble onto each other by pure circumstance,
Or was it fate and destiny that played a certain hand?
Two souls intertwined, they are worlds apart,
But the soul, it knows no difference, in matters of the heart.

Somehow they are drawn together, fate has brought them back,
Each living worlds apart, they journey separate paths.
When this life is over, and a new life begins,
Their souls will find each other, two souls that we call friends.

- Lia Fail -

About Love

As I stand here today with the world as my witness,
I pledge to you my undying and everlasting love.
I will stand beside you as your partner,
I will stand before you as your protector,
And I will stand behind you as your solace.
Please spend and end your life with me.

- Earl -

Never Have I Fallen

Your lips speak soft sweetness
Your touch a cool caress
I am lost in your magic
My heart beats within your chest

I think of you each morning
And dream of you each night
I think of your arms being around me
And cannot express my delight

Never have I fallen
But I am quickly on my way
You hold a heart in your hands
That has never before been given away

- Rex A. Williams -

Others

After Reading a Book of Old Chinese Poems, I Stay Awake Tonight and Write This Poem


A beautiful place is the little town of Claremont.
The quiet streets are lines by ancient trees.
Down the long avenues of old houses,
pepper trees, sycamores, cedars, oaks and elms,
eucalyptus, palms and jacarandas
translate sunlight into restful shadows.
Flowers are everywhere, and citrus trees.
Lemons and oranges ornament the gardens.
Students walk by, with their books, to the colleges.
Townspeople walk together to the village.
From parks and schoolyards, children’s voices call.
Sunday mornings, churches ring their bells.
On a clear day, you can see the mountains,
where children play, in winter, in the snow,
and long trails lead to streams and waterfalls.
Deer and mountain lions roam the mountains.
Rattlesnakes doze for hours in the sun.
Some days the ponds are visited by bears
who stumble home with their bellies full of trout.
Unable to sleep, I leave my house tonight
and sit at the wooden table under the trees.
Now the winds and birds have settled; the night is still.
The owl in the cedar tree begins to bell.
Rose and jasmine burn their sticks of incense.
Moonlight falls on Claremont through the clouds.
I remember Po Chui’s poem about the cranes.
In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss,
the garden-boy is leading the cranes home.
How strange and powerful, the love of home.
Stranger still to be alive at all,
to be anywhere, in all its endless detail,
and the millions of tiny locks that will be broken
before you can be released from where you are
to return again to the place,
so many years ago, you started from,
the nothing that is everywhere but here.


Michael Creagan