bleak autumn evening

Edgar Allan Poe rap, rap,

rapping at my door

tangerine sunset

spills upon the banquet hall

no one notices

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eye of the needle

we must pass this narrow gate

without gifts or deeds

 

candles

serene spot in a

stone cold sanctuary gives

unparalleled peace

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a kind of compass

a symbol universal

the needful arrow

 

 

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ghostly Christmas tale

leaves ghost of an idea

to live: give, give, give

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silent moments quell
the chaos, muffle the din
and nourish the soul

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sweet lovingkindess

God’s blessings make me rich, and

He adds no sorrow

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earning forgiveness

on the gray steps of the church

but mercy is free

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black roosters and hens

all her worldly belongings

huddled on the street

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