Poems

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E'en in these bleak November days

There's gladness for the heart that heeds.


–Charles Dawson Shanly (1811–75)

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Now is the time for the burning of the leaves. 

They go to the fire; the nostril pricks with smoke 

Wandering slowly into a weeping mist. 

Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves! 

A flame seizes the smouldering ruin and bites 

On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist. 

–Robert Laurence Binyon (1869–1943)

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'What do you hunt, Orion,

This starry night?'

'The Ram, the Bull and the Lion,

And the Great Bear,' says Orion.



–Robert Graves (1895–1985)

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Over the river and through the wood—

Now grandmother’s cap I spy!

Hurrah for the fun!

Is the pudding done?

Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie!


–Lydia Maria Child (1802–80)

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A touch of cold in the Autumn night

I walked abroad,

And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge

Like a red-faced farmer.

I did not stop to speak, but nodded;

And round about were the wistful stars

With white faces like town children.


–T. E. Hulme (1883–1917)

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We ought to make the moments notes

Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;

The hours and days a silent phrase

Of music we are living.

And so the theme should swell and grow

And rise sublime at this good time,

A grand Thanksgiving chorus.



–Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850–19179)

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And the prayer, which my mouth is too full to express,

Swells my heart that thy shadow may never be less,

That the days of thy lot may be lengthened below,

And the fame of thy worth like a pumpkin-vine grow,

And thy life be as sweet, and its last sunset sky

Golden-tinted and fair as thy own Pumpkin pie!



–John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892)

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We thank Him for all the fruits that grow on the trees and vines.

We thank Him for his goodness in making the forests, and thank all its trees.

We thank Him for the darkness that gives us rest, and for the kind Being

of the darkness that gives us light, the Moon.

We thank Him for the bright spots in the skies that give us signs, the stars.



–Harriet Maxwell Converse (1836–1903)

Translated from a traditional Iroquois prayer

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Heart-warm against the stormy white,

The Rose of Joy burns warmer yet.

–Thomas Gold Appleton (1812–84)

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Baking Christmas cookies with you

nothing better I'd rather do

than sharing moments so dear

and having you right here.



First we mix up the batter

what flavor doesn't matter.

Then we roll them out nice and flat

use the cookie cutters, just like that.



Watch them carefully while they bake

throwing flour on each other, a mess we make.

Finally after they cool on the rack

we apply icing on there back.



Sprinkles and colored sugar to decorate.

How many now have you ate?

These are for our Christmas guest

who deserves our very best.



But no one will ever know this one

making Christmas cookies with you is so much fun.

allpoetry.com/poem/7017451-Baking-Christmas-Cookies-With-You-by-Daytonight

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HANUKKAH BEGINS




HANUKKAH HISTORY

What is the history of Hanukkah? This festival commemorates events that took place in Judea more than 2,000 years ago, when the Syrian king Antiochus ordered the Jews to abandon the Torah and publicly worship the Greek gods. This act provoked a rebellion led by Judas Maccabeus, climaxed by the retaking of the Temple in Jerusalem, which had been desecrated by the Syrians. The army of Jews won, despite their small numbers.

In an eight-day celebration, the “Maccabees” (as the rebels came to be known) cleansed and rededicated the Temple (chanukah means “dedication”). According to the Talmud, there was only enough consecrated oil to re-light the candelabra for one day, yet, miraculously, it remained lit for eight days.

The central feature of the observance of Hanukkah is the nightly lighting of the Chanukiah or menorah, an eight-branched candelabra with a place for a ninth candle, the shammes, used to light the others. One candle is lit on the first night of Hanukkah, and an additional candle is lit on each successive night, until, on the eighth night, the Chanukiah is fully illuminated. Hanukkah is also called the Feast of Lights or Festival of Lights due to the importance of the candle-lighting.


He prayeth best, who loveth best

All things both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

–Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834)

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Now see stern Winter nearer draw,

Sol's feeble rays refuse to thaw

What Winter's frost congeal'd;

And lo! the flakey snows appear,

Proclaim the approach of Christmas near,

And deck in white the field.

–William Cole (1824)

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Hark, how all the welkin rings,

'Glory to the King of kings';

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled.

–Charles Wesley (1707–88)

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I think it's unreasonable. 

Mince pies are seasonal!  

Not the size 

Of pies 

Or anything. 

Just that in summer 

There's nothing. 

Why's mince pies 

Christmas ones?  

The rest of the year 

It's only buns!  

I'd like to thumb 

Them buns. 

Be able to do a runner 

In the summer 

For more of them mince pies. 

Hold everything... 

WE COULD 

Grow our own mince pies 

Then before our eyes 

On the tree 

They'll be. 

But I've now seen the reason 

Mince pie exodus 

Is only Xmas 

Cos the season 

Is only December,  

You see.

  

George BernardBloodyShaw

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January is here, 

With eyes that keenly glow-- 

A frost-mailed warrior striding 

A shadowy steed of snow.

 

–Edgar Fawcett (1847–1904)