Sunday, December 22, 2013

December

I share my grandson Liam's December poem:

December
The cold winds in the night
Do not quench the firelight,
And when dawn comes,
The ground is white,
With Christmas snow,
To all's delight. --L. Peters

He has such diction, such language for an eight year old.  We talk like old buddies, he just doesn't have my experience so I try to share it in little dabs.  I sure remember the things Grandpa George Winkle taught me in eight years.

December is a hard month for me.  I like to see things growing, not dormant.  Getting to see Chris's crop in New Zealand in January two times in the last 4 years has truly been a blessing.  The long nights of December works on my mental condition because I need lots of sunshine to thrive and just enough darkness to sleep.

I am amazed at all of the well wishes and birthday greetings I have received.  Liam called to sing "happy birthday to you" to me this morning and that just made my day!  LuAnn's family has that tradition and I've passed it on to mine.  It's a really good tradition for us, even my eight year old grandson is singing to me!  Thank you children and grand children for your help and well wishes!

The full moon has woke me up once again this week and reminded me that even though December is long and has long nights, we are at a turning point.  That reminds me that our nation, and you and I are at a turning point.  Which way will we turn?

Right now we focus on the "real reason for this season" and these powerful storms affecting so much of the United States.  We escaped pretty well but it sounded like the roof was coming off at any time last night.

Enjoy a blessed Sunday and a hearty welcome to our new followers!  The days get longer now for the next six months!

Ed

4 comments:

  1. December is the darkest month. I thought this was a poem by Longfellow but perhaps I'm thinking of Robert Frost.
    Whose woods these are I think I Annotateknow.
    His house is in the village though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.

    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.

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  2. Robert Frost, isn't it? Hope you are having a good time!

    Can you believe an 8 year old would come up with something like Liam's poem?

    Ed

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    Replies
    1. i posted in a hurry. Perhaps Liam is the next Robert Frost

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  3. He and the other 11 are so smart, I can't imagine what they will all be doing in 20 years!

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171621

    Wish these comments were hot linked!

    Ed

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