Popsicle toes and a cold nose,

Strike an angel’s pose,

Swing your limbs to and fro.

Watch the dusting fly, all that snow.

Giggle and laugh with delight,

Under a star and moon lit night.

Paper, tape, ribbons and bows

Pens with which to write,

Cardboard boxes of various sizes too,

It’s gift wrapping night!

Unrolling, measuring, cutting away,

Taping and labeling, so many to go,

Shipping needs to be done another day,

The holly and plaid are perfect with that bow.

Hope these packages make family smile,

And bring some joy for a little while.

What once flowed freely,

thickens and becomes sticky.

Now it drips out

in long drawn-out drops,

slow, oozing, darkened

from its once golden state.

Still sweet, but now concentrated.

Push it much further,

it will become bitter,

burnt, unrecognizable

and no longer enjoyable.

Stop, before it is overdone.

Her heart races, unwilling to slow down.

There is no reason for it. She doesn’t know why.

Pulling up the blankets, a slight chill fills the air.

She forces her breath to slow, hoping it helps.

The beating is loud to her ears in the silence of the room.

It is almost going at double time.

She closes her eyes and tries to calm down.

Finally, her exhaustion takes over,

drifting to sleep, as her heart slows.

Ever have one of those nights where you are so tired yet so wound up at the same time?

Pounding, pounding, on it goes.

The noise doesn’t stop in her head.

Gears turning and churning,

Impossible to find a stopping point.

Questions flow through her mind;

Am I on the right path, or biding my time?

But finally a goal she sought arrives,

The one her brain pushes her towards.

Her heart quiets its screams,

Knowing now is no longer the time.

She needs a break, a moment of rest.

The heart hopes it’s time will come.

She hopes it doesn’t miss its chance

Next time.

It shattered. The porcelain bowl lied in several pieces. It was special, and it still was. It couldn’t be destined for the trash, for it was treasured so.

Instead, lovingly, she gathered the pieces, as tears rolled down her face. Bit by bit, she reassembled the bowl, embellishing each vein with gold. When she was done, it became more beautiful than before.

She set it on the mantle, knowing it’s secret, filling it with solid things, from candies to baubles and more. A secret lied at the bottom for no one to ever see.

One day he came in, full of love. He decided to pour it in the bowl. It held for a while, but then the secret was revealed. There was a hole, a piece still missing, at the very bottom.

She had never found it, that missing piece. So despite all of its beauty and restoration, it wasn’t whole.

Boxes,

wrapped in white and silver,

still sit in my closet,

Sixteen years later,

unopened.

You left us this day,

unannounced.

Unexpectedly.

I talk to you all the time.

I wonder if you hear

if there is a beyond.

Or perhaps your spirit lies

behind one of your own

great-grandchildren’s eyes?

You are still missed.

You always will be.

Miss you Dad.

Snappy, feeling so snappy.

Turn to the left, boom!,

Finally the pieces arrive;

Turn to the right, blam!,

installer on his way.

It takes a team, but,

I feel so so snappy.

Things are falling

Into place. Finally.

Is the end in sight?

Is that what I see?

Please, oh please,

Let it be! Snappy!!!