Christmas Cake

November or early December is the time
to start on this year’s Christmas cake

Pour several cups of sweet anticipation into a large bowl
- the first snowfall when we hauled out the Christmas records
- all the dolls in the Sear’s catalogue
- paint smells from the basement
cut in a pound of cold reality
- the year I worked nights and slept through
- the first Christmas without Daddy
- the one I broke my wrist
and cream these two ingredients

When blended and smooth
stir in – 1 cup at a time
the plans, ideas, long wish lists,
credit cards and shopping trips,
decorating, light’s a’blinking,
CDs spinning, here we come a-caroling –
keep on stirring

Fold in the surprises next
- a perfect tiny poinsettia for the coffee table
- a leisurely lunch on the Starlight Dinner Train
- room on a standby flight Christmas Eve

Finally toss in
- a teaspoon of worry (surely I’ve forgotten something)
- and a pinch of pride (the house glows by candlelight
while we sip our eggnog Christmas Eve)

Give it the final flourish
– signed! the last (late) card of the season
and bake in a turkey-fragrant oven.
You know it’s done
when the last chocolate is eaten
all the tinsel is vacuumed
and the house is New Year tidy once more.

(Guaranteed to never turn out the same)

Copyright 2004 – Violet Nesdoly

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This poem was first published 2004 in A Night Not to be Silent – A Literary Christmas Greeting, put together by Darlene Moore Berg for the poets at Utmost Christian Writers

The Winter Berry

"Clusters on humble hedge twigs in the park"

 

The winter berry is a cheery thing
To land-bound creatures and those on the wing.
It drapes in sprays along bare estate walls
And festoons prickly ivy ten feet tall
Lights up the cedar fences aged so dark
Clusters on humble hedge twigs in the park.

It spurns the gentler spring, summer and fall
Bursts on the stage of nature when it’s all
Cold wind and rain and ice and snow and sleet
Still peeking red under a frigid sheet
Of snow, it tempts junco and chickadee
With juicy snacks to relish with their tea.

But surely there is wisdom in its ways
For choosing dark and dismal winter days.
When old December slips by dank and glum
And January plods without much sun
There’s little competition for the very
Brave, scarlet, cheery, showy winter berry.

Copyright © 2010 by Violet Nesdoly

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I wrote this poem some years ago, after going on a winter walk and noticing how even the cold and snow didn’t dampen the vibrant red berries. I was reminded of it a few days ago when our first snowfall again showed up their brilliance.