I have noticed my holiday poems seem to focus on food. This one is about Christmas Eve dinner.

Christmas Cuisine

Sisters scurry
around the kitchen.
Shrimp sizzles
in the skillet
and linguini simmers
in the saucepan.
Scents of garlic,
lemon and butter
fill the air.
The transfer is made
from pans to plates.
Parsley flakes fall
on food and floor,
like the snow
that covers roads
on Christmas Eve.

My mother made Christmas cookies before the days of prepackaging. She made the dough from scratch and also did things like shell nuts and even shave some with a potato peeler. She made at least eight different kinds of cookies and each recipe made several dozen.

The Mountains of Christmas

Mountains lined the buffet
and rose from folding tables
setup just for the season.
Brown sugar and nuts
yielded the darkest terrain.
Pinwheels were stacked into
mounds of red and green.
Frosting and sprinkles created
a glittery landscape.
Powdered sugar provided
a snow-like dusting.
Looking up from the
valley of childhood,
I knew I couldn't
scale these peaks,
but I could take
a little off the top.

All of the stories about Pearl Harbor brought back some memories so I wrote the following:

Emotional Ties

I stood in line
on a bright summer day
trying to imagine
the utter bedlam
that took place
in such a beautiful setting.
I read the history and
even saw some of
the physical wreckage.
I heard stories of
those who were there
and those who just
missed being there.
This visit brought
me closer, but
I still only understood
Pearl Harbor intellectually
until September 11, 2001.

I will be participating in a couple of holiday readings this month so I have been working on some poems related to the holidays. I thought I would share them throughout this month.

Gifts

Some gifts aren't packaged,
wrapped or tied with
a big red bow.
They are unveiled
throughout a day.
Kindness, understanding and support
Company, connection and concern
Laughter, forgiveness and love.
Never out of stock
Available year round
These gifts are best
when they are returned.