Father Christmas. With the advent of Noel , the dusting of the tottering white is a welcome sight . when the Elves are at work and the stardust becomes a thick white blanket , from Lapland in his toboggan in the dreamy , frosty December, through the chimney's down comes Santa for him and her. With a token of love in every action , Reaching out at every junction, Giving presents galore with gregarious hugs , spreading smiles manifesting love , hope and more . Father Christmas has a lot in store ! The Yule tree shines bright in all its finery , Bedecked shimmering baubles and the tinsels , the mittens and the Holly , Imbuing time to be Jolly . Elaborate, aromatic spreads , from eggnog to gingerbreads, The delicious plum cake or the turkey bake ! Folks merried and gleed , A feast indeed ! The jingle bells and the Carolling adding the musical touch. Why ride the clutch? Bring in the best for the Christmas fest ! The reason for the season is the divine warmth , swooning away the gloom and zwart . Gracing the world , Angels playing cupid with wing and prayer, spreading love in the air. So when it's Christmas in all its glory , make merry my friend for its just so fair !

Self-labeling issues

     
    Long-lasting questions are still straining and pushing My Soul - my nightmarish evenings are being ruined! I must see the steps of my struggling days to come in vicious series; to my watchful eyes appear in immortal times, in times of a millennium, the immortal memories of strange people whom I already judge forever!
     
    Although they have often joked and chased me away - my willful plans have driven me into thoughtful thoughts and wherever I am my selfish creativity will not let me down! Indeed! It is evolving and multiplying! "I would be anxiously waiting for secret telepathic signs with which my beating-beating heart could loyally address Someone as long as there was growing anxiety about others in my heart attack!"
     
    My day is already hiding things: Behind the horror of the Question, the suicidal dis...

Saintship

A Saint,
walked on earth,
Centuries ago,
before entering the gate,
helping on ships,
it was so
Sailing treacherous,
rough waters,
reviving the sick,
Imprinted in the,  
memory strip,
touching on land,
at the end of a trip 
Now awake,
after seeing the full,
Saintship,
still performing duties,
full circle trip

© 2020  Carol Natasha Diviney

Decent Human ?

Were the words that were said to me as  I was told to leave

Always on the run fuck this heart on my sleeve

this way and that...

I am completely aware that water is heavier than air
fish swim, birds fly... each in their special atmosphere
roads can turn in random ways
evening's light strolls slowly... ending days
cats nip on catnip and dogs bark and scratch 
a much wiser person can be an unequal match
shoes fit best when they are the right size
every sea that dips will in short time rise
eloping with a sexy lady
some might look upon as being a bit shady
cows seem disinterested when giving milk
worms even more so... when spinning silk
lumberjacks don't trifle when in the woods
merchants are vexed when underpaid for their goods
coins that jingle in your pocket
are no match for the roaring rocket
you can be fooled when not paying attention
and jump at a chance at the slightest mention
gymnasts tumble and flip out with ease
some of your best people do whatever they plea...

pay attention...

life is a gambling, challenging place
it all gets done at your very own pace
you can glide and go quietly smooth
but there are pitfalls and so much to loose
stick it, turn it, make a jumble and mess
what may come out is much more... not less
talk tough,  move easy with style and grace
people will know and respect your place

with passion and purpose things get in disarray
adversaries ready to proclaim touché
battles so fervent, plentiful and terse
around the next corner what is coming is worse
like the crystal skies that usher past a storm
all is made calm and will return to norm
stay focused on how to get it all done
because you'll always be doing it while on the run
 

à plus tard...

what purview do you have left for me
my words, limbs or what I see
you've debased and taken all and more
now am I to be mopped across the floor

once with tender and caring concern
like an eternal flame that would forever burn
doused now with trinkets one by one
all that was cherished now blatantly undone

this journey to nowhere was never known
our blindness so complete and never shown
all those efforts, dance, art and song 
where crafted to make us permanent and strong

you said it your way, I mine
unholy they became in our faltering shrine 
now a deep and distant haze 
thankfully softens the sorrow in our days