Wednesday, 25 December 2013

Christmas Poems - Christmas Day - Day Two

Happy Christmas to everyone.

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I’m not the only poor travelling woman
to birth her baby among animals
in a strange town.
I’m not the only mother to watch her son
confound his elders,
overstep the boundaries,
store up trouble for himself.
I’m not the only poor widow to watch her son
walk away with his friends
not knowing where his path would lead him,
trusting that he would return, one day.
I’m not the only mother to watch the son she loved above all things
dying before her, untimely.
In those precious moments holding my baby
everything was possible,
nothing was written,
the whole earth was filled with joy.

I hold that peace in my heart.

Jo Waterworth

Jo's moving collection My Father Speaks in Poetry too can be purchased from The PS online shop at

Graceful, standing like a ballerina

Torso captivating
Arms wide, reach out skilfully

Legs well-made
Foot arched and toes hard-pressed

Purposefully on the ground
The crown, a star, astounding drama

Trinkets and tinsel
A Christmas tree.

Johanna Boal 12/12/12

As it is my late Mum's birthday this feels appropriate as I will never stop being Irene's Daughter:

Being Irene’s daughter

My memory holds
the days
of being Irene’s daughter

the cosy winter coming home from school days
when I lit the fire while
mum cooked crispy breast of lamb
to eat with my fingers

the after the orthodontist treat days
when we came home
with half-coated
chocolate biscuits from Lewises

the brave radiotherapy sickness days
when I did the ironing
and mum, strong spirited as always
supervised my creases

the wedding preparation days
choosing my dress
and hers on a glorious
rain- drenched Saturday

and best of all

the exciting new mother days
when mum passed on
her wisdom and delighted
in cuddling each new born child

Susan Jane Sims

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