Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

poem-boxes January 9, 2018

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 3:20 pm
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Boxed up

memories, wrapped carefully

in torn tissue paper,

worn over years.

Boxed up

histories, revisited annually-

unwrapping melancholy,

tying it on a tree.

 

poem-gifts December 20, 2017

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 10:47 pm
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Downcast eyes,

a tentative

I made this for you.

Whatever it is

wrapped by hopeful hands,

holding you with a glistening gaze,

There is only one response:

It’s lovely!

Crumpled paper,

unfathomable art,

shapeless, tasteless garment,

Made it for you means

I love it.

I love it

means

I love you, too.

 

poem-Christmas Eve December 24, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:53 am
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It’s Christmas Eve and you’re not here,

There’ll never be another year

when we will feel your warm embrace

and look upon your loving face.

It’s our first Christmas without you

No wonder I am feeling blue.

 

 

poem-burnt December 22, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:11 pm
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She’s fuchsia

purple

royal blue.

She’s wine,

emerald,

turquoise.

Everyone knows it.

But you gift burnt orange

despite having heard years

of disgusted mutterings

about orange and yellow and olive

from childhood.

Burnt orange.

Burnt.

Orange.

She ponders

Surely there is a message here?

and wonders whether you would be offended

if she dyes your gift

more than she’s offended

by burnt orange.

 

 

 

 

poem-absent December 21, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:35 pm
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I hear your voice I see your smile

I’m glad you’re here to sit a while,

but when I turn around I see

that you are only memory.

So Christmas has come and you are gone

and day by day life still goes on;

though you are free from earthy pain,

Your absence grieves my heart again.

 

 

 

poem-Christmas train December 16, 2015

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 8:38 pm
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From coast to coast the train rolls

Bright, coloured Christmas lights,

stopping town to town.

The doors pull back and musicians play.

Portable concerts for the holiday.

.

.

Here’s a link to a photo of the train.

 

 

 

poem- Christmas Eve December 24, 2014

Filed under: Poetry — Shawn L. Bird @ 4:33 pm
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The

house

is empty

except for memories

It’s really too much effort

setting up that Christmas tree.

The young folks all use email

so there weren’t many cards received

The avenue is packed with snow

that’s falling unrelieved

They won’t risk driving anywhere

on that they are agreed.

Celebrations are in the past

as memories are retrieved

That’s the magic of the season,

and the truth of

Christmas Eve.

.

.

.

Merry Christmas to those who are alone, working, or happily avoiding celebrations.

PS. The shape was supposed to be a Christmas tree, but I’m thinking it looks more like an elf silhouette.  What’s your take?

 

 
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