Saturday, December 2, 2017

Winter-sweet taste & Christmas-Blessed! &Christmas "Presence"! & Day 351 CJSM-book IV


 


Winter sweet-taste
 
Christmas pine-scent
Fall Royal-robe spent
 
Fresh-holiday draped-white
New Year-celebration delight
 
January-stark sun barren-bold
North wind-whistle icy-cold
 
Sculpted-crystal scoured-fields
Granary-busting harvest-yields
 
Myriad-colored woolen scarfs---nice
Clickety-Clack skate-blades fly ice
 
Cerulean-deep faux-sun frozen
Charlatan-warmth image-chosen
 
Dad’s snow-sled slope-careening
Icicle-snowmen chatter-screaming
 
Comfort-warm embrace hearth-blazing
¼ lb.-cookie, hot-chocolate Love-amazing
 
House-eves vacant-howl freezing-tremblings
Tug goose-down comforter, igloo-rememberings
 
Midnight-dreams scamper hope-images soon
Wishes-wild on magic alabaster-pale full-moon
 
Horizon-yonder dawn sparkle filigree frost-glass
Wafts yon breakfast-flavor kitchen-warm lad-lass
 
Snow-tracks reach the barn to hay-the-stock awaiting
“Woolies”-itch afore the fire-warm, celestial-satiating
 
Don layer-clothes, hat, mittens, boots; brave another gift
Black-white daguerreotype bas-relief imagery stark-rift
 
Enjoy-smile Robins-red on crowded bud-reticent melodious-sing
Winter-white recedes–northward ushering emerald-green Spring
 
Amen!

 
 
 
 
Plus:
 
 
 
Christmas Blessed!

 

 

Dark night dawn blazed light of day

Newborn babe rough manger lay

 

Virgin-Mother adore our King

Celestial choir, angelic sing

 

Miracle to this world wonder

Jesus birth in shelter yonder

 

God’s true love millennium

Praise and honor, glorify Him

 

Mist transcend sweet morning dew

Escort sky cerulean blue

 

Blanket beauty snow soft white

Pure, perfect time eternal sight

 

All that’s good, God’s grace bestow

Gifts, mankind, help spiritually grow

 

Celebrate life, Father, Son and Spirit

Sweet earth beckon, listen, hear it

 

Invite holy Christ-child, royal guest

Each cherished life, He Christmas Blessed!

Amen!

 

Merry Christmas

 

 Plus:
 
 
 
 
  Christmas “Presence”!

 

 

Serendipity! Memorable events, adventures well worth savoring from life’s daily episodes, very often happen that way…completely by accident, stumbled upon while searching for some other necessity, another treasure, a better conclusion. An accident? So it seems, as we accept the coincidence in order for the “un”-commonplace to be easily explained away. Perhaps?

Absently, I nearly walked right past him. Preoccupied, I was, as usual with important matters, some crisis or another to resolve. In my periphery, just another person, an impediment to detour. Just one more annoyance, a someone or a something in my path as I strolled along the coast overlook some fifty feet above the resplendent blue Pacific, mentally searching for “the” answer to some monumental imperative; though, now, I cannot recall what that troubling issue might have been. He paid me no mind, either; of course, I deserved that non-response. Touché!

Maybe it was the faded light tan fishing-type hat, or the silver hair, or the crystal clear blue eyes…I’m not sure what, exactly, but some inner alert caused me to consider him. Then, it hit me. Reminders and recollections of my grandfathers, both now gone, gave me pause to invest a moment of such fleeting valuable time to look again. Forever since, I’m blessed that I did so.

Resting his forearms on the top fence rail erected at the very edge of the cliff high above the placid ocean, his attentive eyes surveyed the distant horizon as white foam from the lulling surf gently caressed the glistening shore while a warm sun charmed the serene setting. Walking near, I intruded into his aura and chanced a pleasant greeting, unsure of the hoped for response I might receive. Immediately, my misgivings were trumped; here was pure gentleman of the elder class.

A polite conversation ensued; one sided, as the old man taught and I listened---and…learned.

“Decades ago, Christmas was the very best time of year for me. Being a child, life seemed simple enough. The aroma of lovingly prepared dinner, tree lights, laughter, love, family, the very emotional feelings of Christmas…these were well worth a year long wait. And, the presents were most important, too. After all these years, a lifetime, at last, I fully begin to understand.

“I spend a great deal of time here, now; alone. I’m an old man; no one has time for old men, anymore. Nature, she’s my friend. Never asks anything of me; she’s just always there when I show up. Quiet, peaceful, providing beauty---ocean, sky, clouds, wind, birds. It’s that same feeling of Christmas I experienced as a child…happiness. Harmony among people expressed in thought and word and deed---the very essence of love. I think of how important presents appeared to be, then; I know now life’s quintessence is, indeed: Christmas ‘Presence!’” Amen!

He smiled kindly, nodded a silent salute, meandered off and left me there, alone; to ponder.

I experienced the ocean’s peace for a time, then, as I considered the truth he had imparted.

If our paths happen to cross in some “tomorrow”-time, you’ll recognize me.

I’ll be the blue-eyed stranger who politely smiles and says, “Bon jour! Mon Amie!”

 

Merry Christmas!



 
Plus:
 
 
 
 
Day 351
 
 
Fireside Inn in Yachats (pronounced: Yack ats) Ha! Ha!
 
 
We vacationed in beautiful Oregon one fine summer; I fell in love all over, again.
Miss Colorado and the great Rocky Mountains had owned my capricious-heart for many years; after visiting the seductive charms of the Great Northwest, she has owned that heart.
We stumbled upon a motel on the coast called the Fireside Inn in a quaint little berg name of “Yahats”, An Indian word pronounced “Ya-hots”. Lady Candy pronounced it “Yackats”! Well! None of us spoke any “Native-American”. Hmm!? Live and learn! I reckon! A stunning venue!
The mighty blue Pacific rolled white-crested waves against the basalt rock outcroppings comprising the coast at Yachats; the surf comes crashing in, assaulting the black edifice with thunderous cadenced blasts. The basalt split into miniature canyons within the rock structure; here the waves were compressed like an inverse funnel ending in a “V” where the restricted water volume explodes in a mini-geyser shooting white-spray 20 feet into the air. Inspiring!
Yachats ranks high on our list of favorite vistas along the 400+ mile coastline of a fine lady.
We explored the entire coast, the Coast Mountains, Cascade Range and Willamette valley between the two, Crater Lake and Brookings near the California border. East high plains is a world unto itself and the Columbia River Valley from the Pacific to Idaho is a great adventure.
Trekking northward from Portland through Washington state unfolds beautiful Canada’s British Columbia where the traveler boards the BC Ferry to be transported through the fantastic San Juan Islands, emerald jewels displayed in an indigo sea to a destination at Victoria, BC.
Daughter Beth did her first two years of law studies at Willamette University School of Law; her final term was completed at Vanderbilt University in the city of my birth, Nashville, Tennessee, as a visiting student. We returned to Salem for her commencement.
Z. Tyler, age 5, sported a brand new white suit for the festivities; a mountain stream dissects the campus and our young man promptly stepped off the sidewalk into the river, 8” deep.
We dried him and went to the entrance ramp to the stadium where the exercises were being held. As I held the “little”-man’s hand slowly climbing the steps in a crowd of myriad people milling together in the packed passageway, I couldn’t help but notice the attractive little fox directly in front of us and the mid-thigh skirt displaying her silky-assets; quite a “Hottie!” I reckon I was a bit younger in those days and took special notice of such offerings---Hell!...I’m no spring chicken now, but I still take notice.
Suddenly, “Vixen” turned toward me and my little “pal,” giving me a curious glare. Then, I noticed my “little”-man’s other hand under the hem of that enticing material-venue and climbing northward. Uh! Oh! Embarrassed, I quickly pulled him in a manner so as to dislodge his exploring hand; then, I got a curious look from Z. Tyler like: “What?”
She said not a word; whether she was insulted I couldn’t tell; I got neither slapped nor a phone number. I could have explained that Z. Tyler just loved stockings; when we went on shopping sprees to Meier & Frank department store he delighted in sitting beside the mannequins modeling silky stockings on sexy-shapely molded legs. That boy might just very well be my clone---only, with a healthy dose of…enviable Cool!
Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “Sexy-stockings fantasy!?” Memories!


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