Holidays in the Key of F

Monday Morning Musings:

I’m combining this week’s MMM with Jane Dougherty’s poetry challenge. Each line of the poem must start with the same letter. I chose “F.” 

Festive holidays glimmering

Filigree of silver shimmering on

Fir trees and pine.

Faux fur beards on red-dressed gents,

Frolicking reindeer and fragrant scents

Flashes of holly and figures fine. Yet,

Flamboyant-haired man is

Far from bliss,

Firing-up hate and raising fears. As

Forlorn refugees still exist

Fleeing

Failed dreams and tears.

Fleeting time does not wait

For us then there is a date,

Free-time from the bitter jeers

Free-time freed thus from arrears.

Food and wine, lovely yes,

Fruit of the vine. More or less.

Followed next by the tale relayed,

Familiar story of a life remade.

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Forsaking greed, Scrooge stands

Forgiven and dismal thoughts are forbidden.

Frail Tiny Tim lives to dine on

Fresh turkey, and without it hidden

Friends and family rejoice, another dawn bid-in.

Festive holidays, glimmering tree–

Fanciful me.

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Former soldiers celebrated Christmas in trenches

Flash now on refugees and wretches—

Foresee

Forgetting hate and grief-filled years

Forgotten depths of war-torn spheres

Focus on Christmases of past, future, and present

From words of ghosts both dire and pleasant

From the star shining, bright and clear

Flickering lights of holiday cheer

Furloughed dreams regained, brought near

For joy and peace

For love and laughter

For war to cease

Forever and after.

Fons vitae caritas.*

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Detail from the birthday card my younger daughter made for me.

*Love is the fountain of life

We visited Auburn Road Vineyard for a special Friday night dinner with a show as part of my multi-day birthday celebration.

 

 

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25 thoughts on “Holidays in the Key of F

  1. Beautiful, Merril. You have a great gift of words. So glad you share it with us. 🙂
    I had dinner last night with four refugees who made it in before the “Flamboyant-haired man” started spewing so much venom. Two adults and their children. I can’t imagine what it is like for them, to have survived civil war and bombings, to have to leave their home and almost everything they own and know, to leave behind those who decided they were too old to travel with them, and then to be welcomed with the hatred of that “Flamboyant-haired man.”

    • Thanks so much, Robin. I appreciate your kind words. As for the refugees–I can’t imagine what it must be like either. But it’s good that the family you had dinner with know that despite the hate-filled speech of some, there are others who do not agree with it and who want to help them.

  2. Pingback: Poetry challenge #9 free style: the entries | Jane Dougherty Writes

  3. Thank you for reminding me of the refugee crisis. I haven’t been watching the news lately and it’s so easy to forget what’s going on beyond your own small world. Getting caught up in perfection of one sort or another. Today, the house is a wreck but my daughter’s ballet bun is perfect for her performance. You can’t tick all the boxes all of the time and tonight, I think a bottle of wine would be just wonderful! xx Rowena

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