christmas—the only time a teenager doesn’t mind being called a kid

Wakenda Creek

My dear friend

Among your magnificent oaks

Your ghostly willows

Your towering maples

I honed my youthful imagination

I fought countless WWII battles

Hunted for elephants in the depths of Africa

With Frodo and Sam we searched

Through hollow logs for Elves and Orcs

As Captain Blackbeard

I pirated your waters for golden booty

I fished and hunted

Along your muddy banks

As I grew older

You exposed me to different fantasies

Secluded amid a cottonwood grove

Surrounded by fields of tall corn

And sweet smelling alfalfa

A wide-open night sky

With countless stars and a full summer moon

Gave me my first glimpse of heaven

I thank you for the many memories

christmas is the day we miss not seeing the people we never cared about the other 364 days

The Trailer on the Corner

He passed around his bottle again

For any who entered he called friend

Never a stranger there in the house

Of that joyful man and gentle spouse

People with no names were welcome there

Warm yourself, eat and let your head clear

Move on down the road a better man

Faith renewed that there’s a greater plan

Gone twenty minutes or twenty years

He’d still welcome you home without fear

Share a hug…story…a shot of wine

He was not just a man, but friend for all time

the best holiday decoration that can ever be displayed—is a genuine smile