What we fear, all year, is the suffering of the poor people near. May the Christmas Spirit and good will reign in your heart year after year. Donna J. Fennel
A YULETIDE YARN®
Original, awakening holiday poetry from the heart by Donna J. Fennel.
Quilled during this blustery 29th eve in November of 2005, I do believe.
Revised by a winking fireside especially for you on November 13, 2006.
The angels are among us as hosts when we need their tender care the most.
Why not spare a healthy yule or two for those men who have no flame?
While you offer a fresh flavor and brew to he who has no roasted game.
And when all are gaily assembled to partake in your merriment and fun ~
Make no mistake, during this mirthful wake to view the Light of the Son.
One squally day, in the legendary city of Royal David’s dominion reign ~
A lowly and lonely cattle manger shook well upon a long forgotten plain.
When a maid bore and laid her newborn babe in hay of this humble shed ~
You would do well to remember, in future Decembers, the Words He said.
Comes soon the feast of kings, when your oaken table will be smothered ~
A banquet fit for He who asks thee to break bread with your poor brothers.
Invite those who are able to dine at this table; those have-nots of your lot ~
Compassion and rations cannot be bought by men who own no golden pot.
While winter’s winds weave spells in time, cast your wealthy world behind ~
In order to be kind, for this is your graceful hour to share dollars and dimes.
‘Midst your flagstone fire’s frenzy and flicker, whose flame seems quicker ~
Still, spread good will to those who chill, for your wallet is growing thicker.
Raise a toast to the Gift, instead, who bestowed you with the best of bread ~
For the Host who gave you these celebration libations lingers just overhead.
He watches in sorrow, while another tomorrow comes alongside sleepy sun ~
And solemn skies that threaten snow, hoping men’s greed will be overcome.
While you enwreathe yourself in cheer, give the gift of compassion, my dear ~
Towards he who sheds torrid tears all year, awaiting his final days here, I fear.
Over there, lad, he who shivers while surveying window of a Christmas shop ~
Hoping that his hunger will stop long enough for this fellow of his forgotten lot.
When you taste treasures without measure, carving a hearty, gleaming goose ~
Allow yourself to turn a fine vision loose, far beyond the Yuletide merry muse.
That chair at the end of your oaken table assigned to your routine tardy guest ~
Could be reserved for a poor soul, whose growling stomach would be blessed.
Ah, ‘midst pomp and pageantry of your joyful place, the selfless act of grace ~
Would put a smile on the sullen face of a child, who has not been fed for days.
Perhaps that toy with a threadbare head could bring joy to a dirty boy, instead ~
Or that forgotten pack of soap on a rope may offer hope for the oil on his head.
While you are decking your Dickens village, and midnight raiding your fridge ~
You would do well to know there is an old woman living under your local bridge
Who is smiling bright, tonight, because she found a moth-eaten pair of mittens ~
Over there, by an abandoned goose carcass fit to feed herself and feeble kittens.
O, those long forgotten blank Christmas cards bought by Aunt Joy in hesitation ~
Could be a fine gift for one who has family left, unaware of his hapless situation.
Perhaps the man with empty, holey pockets who cannot afford a pay phone fee ~
Would accept your stamps and dusty cards gratefully, to mail to his own family.
Before your Christmas tide is through, you would do well to take this measure ~
Sift through your belongings, olden and new, for they could become a treasure ~
For those souls of income disparity, who would welcome your selfless charity ~
As a miracle typifying your philanthropy and kindness born from humane rarity.
A memory you should protect and recollect is that sad moment you once knew ~
A lean holiday or two, when the tree seemed bare without its tinsel gold and blue.
Or your loved one was too ill to dine with you and your family precious and dear.
Now dwell for a spell on that penniless person plagued with pneumonia all year.
The beggar’s lantern light is kept burning bright, through a fury of frosted nights ~
While the makeshift hut he knows as humble home succumbs to its hopeless plight.
For he cannot make it to safer ground, where a fit of food and festivity abounds ~
Because he is too weary to walk there, while him winter tide’s shroud surrounds.
The balsam boughs sway, while nature sprays her ivory flakes in a pillowed sky ~
While the poor fellow confronts yet another bleak Christmas, hoping he will get by
On the fading memories of his maudlin yesteryears, as he sheds sentimental tears ~
During this season, when good will should be spilled to douse an old man’s fears.
Now when you shop and spend, to no end, borrow a moment or two, will you?
While your fires and desires become December embers in your memories, too.
Send a powerful prayer or more along, while your family carols and convenes ~
Lending a consoling heart to those far and apart, who cannot fulfill their dreams.
Open your hearth and heart to those who walk among you, yearning to be fed ~
The unlucky seeking mercy too weak to work: Carry them to your door, instead.
Over the horizon of humanity lies the hope you will accept as family, come hither ~
The men who pretend their stale bread is finest spread, while their bodies wither.
Keep the poor warm, while you embrace and swarm during this season of bliss ~
One of fruitfulness and Christmas lists, while ‘neath mistletoe the healthy folks kiss.
Perchance your New Year’s resolution should be one of absolution, a gift of self ~
‘Midst your Yuletide song, when an idea comes along to give grace, above all else.
Now recall that Christmas Eve, when you were relaxing in your favorite easy chair?
When the fat cat purred idly in your lap, and you had some pocket change to spare?
Instead of those dimes landing in your chest drawer, you could have handed them ~
To the Salvation Army band who sang carols at your grocery store, time and again.
Methinks that Jacob Marley had the right idea, when in Scrooge he instilled fear ~
And those chains he carried in lament, was price well meant for an eternity of drear.
Although he scared Ebenezer to death somewhat, this fraught spirit never forgot ~
The egocentric life on Earth he led would lead to his baleful bed of dread, instead!
My guest, I suggest that when you are entranced by a Yuletide, merry and bright ~
Remember the true meaning of this night, when the Star of Bethlehem did ignite ~
In majesty on His behalf, lad and lass, for the Divine sign becomes loud and clear ~
Why on Earth we are meant to be here: To spread good will to those far and near.
May this season of good will and cheer be blessed with all that is best throughout the New Year, including your gifts of self, compassion and aid to your fellow man today. Mercy and peace of mind go hand and hand, when they are at the Lord's and your command. God Bless.
~ Donna J. Fennel - November 30, 2005 ~
Copying, photocopying, distribution or transmission of the above original work and Web content
is strictly prohibited without authorized permission in writing from the author, Donna J. Fennel.
I am a registered member of and volunteer for the following humanitarian organizations. Throughout this promising new year, give so that more can live:
I am a member of the world renowned NetAid® organization, committed to eradicate global poverty, including aiding those impoverished in the United States. They promote education to the financially challenged as a viable, successful means for their economic recovery. I am pleased to be involved in this humanitarian mission as an online volunteer for this organization. Registration is FREE. Give the wondrous gifts of grace and mercy to others throughout this promising year.
"While spirits and hearts we mend through the compassion, empathy, love and respect we lend, know that His angels God will send.
~ Donna J. Fennel - December 27, 2005 ~
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