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Valerie Esker

Will we always remember this,
the worst hurricane season ever,
just ended, leaving death, destruction, and sorrow?

Can we ever forget
the thousands of young men and women
who gave their lives for a withering cause
in a desert land far away?

We are warned of global warming,
of imminent pandemics,
of the child predators that abound.

Crystal meth use is reported
rampant in every neighborhood,
creating zombies of its users.

Oh, the broken homes
producing poverty, angry children,
distraught parents.

We, anguished, witness these things, Lord,
and we wonder.
We wonder why, and why, and why.

But then the tinsel glistens,
reflects the meaning of Christmas,
the evergreen shining promise,
of the new earth you vowed
would soon come.

BRAVE ONE
Phyllis Moutray

Being brave and strong,
you told us what is wrong,

and so we know for you
the days are likely few.

Brave man, of course, we pray
to God for you each day,

but then as you've grown worse,
we always add this curse:

"Carcinoma, why
aren't you the one to die?"

BEGIN AGAIN, RENEWED
Jean Even

My house is like a famine
In a land of plenty where nothing is mine.
The desert wind has blown hot
Against me; now there’s an empty pot.

I will rise up and be accountable.
Should I say it was sin, and deplorable
At that, to leave me in such a state?
Or it may be a trial by fire, so I won’t hate.

I’ll return to my land. It will be great
To see the places of my youth where I ate
With loved ones and family I once knew.
I’ll show my respects and begin again, renewed.

In the light of the Lord I will respond
To bring peace upon me and not to despond.
In my house, God’s love will flourish,
With blessings for all to be nourished.

ICE STORM
Tania Gray

Is this the height of Ozark grit--in ice?
The zenith of our mettle, fearless pluck,
the skills to cope with winter storm's bad luck,
no power, water, heat, or school--no dice.
We play with pyrotechnics, haul in wood,
use water sparsely, postpone laundry day,
observe the birds, send children out to play,
eat simply, raid the pantry for our food.
Call Mother on the dial telephone--
the fancy cordless pulse phone's blank and mute.
So is the e-mail on the network route.
Hold candles, walking in a half-light zone.
Stay on, thou winter gale and frigid air,
and thereby make of us a closer pair.

My friend is playing Scrooge this Christmas
so he won't be at our meeting.
He'll be too busy Bah-Humbugging
to write a Christmas greeting,

at least till Marley--the guy in chains--
brings warnings from Beyond
and ghosts appear, one by one,
three ghosts who correspond

to Ebenezer's Christmas Past,
Present, and Yet to Come.
John--uh Scrooge--will age on stage
and laugh with little Tom Thumb.

No, that's not right--it's Tiny Tim
that eats Christmas goose
when John--uh Scrooge--metamorphoses
and all bells break loose.

So the play with Christmas greetings
ends on a happy note,
but Scrooge--John--won't be at our meeting
to read a poem he wrote.