Poems by Ann D. Stevenson

Christmas here once more,
hard to ignore, festive
wreaths on every door.

Housed inside is needled
pine, bright baubles shine
with tiny twinkling lights.

Trees glow, festive music
flows, lifts up hearts, baking
starts, excitement grows.

Little sticky fingers help frost
white icing on the cake, set mini
figures among the snowy peaks.

Traditional food abounds,
turkey with all its trimmings,
a flame-lit Christmas pudding.

Snaps of bursting crackers,
scattered paper hats and jokes,
sounds of popping corks.

Glasses brimmed with bubbles
of good cheer - that's how it is
for some - at this time of year.

There's a hum from the bees in the air
which stirs up gentle musings in my mind,
scented blossom is making me aware
of certain hidden treasure they may find.

There's a stir in the branches of the trees
it reflects quiet awakenings of my own,
leaves unfurl in a warm and gentle breeze
they stretch out until they become full-blown.

There's music in the garden from the birds,
cheerful sounds that make my spirits glow,
is this a calling that the flowers have heard
a time to bloom, to blossom and to grow.

There's joy in new beginnings, a fresh start,
it grows deep inside and lifts up my heart.

When I awake to one more dreary day,
an empty heart with empty hours to fill,
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

A breath of air can blow the clouds away,
my thoughts, like clouds, can drift aloft at will,
when I awake to one more dreary day.

If some stubborn clouds should decide to stay,
their shadows causing something of a chill,
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

I search out old memories, I find that they
help lift my spirits up, and linger still,
when I awake to one more dreary day.

Memories, like sunshine, do not stay at bay,
their warmth and love my empty heart may fill.
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

As sunny days arrive, I hope that they
bring further magic moments to instill.
When I awake to one more dreary day
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

I see your star, it's shining bright
amongst the others of the night,
a sight so blessed, as by my eye
your soul now rests in symmetry.

How I love the night time skies,
such magic drifts before my eyes,
these are the times when I aspire
to write what sets my heart on fire.

To write in rhyme my chosen art,
words all coming from my heart,
like my heart they need a beat,
metric poems in measured feet.

Words start forming in a chain,
tumbling round within my brain,
about the love I tried to grasp,
the love no longer in my clasp.

Grief attacks with many spears,
piercing holes for leaking tears,
but gazing at night skies I see
the one lone star I think is thee.

I see your star, still shining bright
amongst the others of the night,
a sight so blessed, as by my eye
your soul now rests in symmetry.

You hold my hand,
I, like a child, feel safe.
You hold my hand,
I feel a warm embrace.
You hold my hand,
my fears begin to fade.
You hold my hand,
and I am less afraid.
You hold my hand,
I know a sense of peace.
You hold my hand,
I feel my troubles cease.

Once I glimpsed another world,
gilded streams of light unfurled,
incandescent trails of wonder
blew my present world asunder.

A gold ethereal sphere above,
a transcendental world of love,
beckoned me, called me to stay,
so close, but I was drawn away.

A tug of human hearts and hands
brought me back to known lands,
perpetual memories in my mind,
another world so nearly mine.