On Christmas Morn
Home Alone Christmas
Waiting in Heaven
On Christmas Morn The white moon wanes at dawn of winterʼs day While fairy dust, once sprinkled on the lawn, Begins to steam and upward wends its way. Iced panes of glass slow melt as children yawn Excited breath, or draw, with fingers raw And cold, a smiley face or five point star. ‟Get up!” she calls, ‟ʼTis Christmas Day once more!” See woolly socks hang bright beneath the bar, White berried mistletoe for all to see In festive doorways decked with red and green? The children wait for gifts with verve and glee, Amazed that Santa came last night unseen. Yet tucked aside a new born babe awakes The cattle low and, still, no sound He makes. Copyright © 2011 Rod O'Donoghue
Home Alone Christmas Home alone Christmas No knocks at the door No cards by the fireplace No tree on the floor No ‟bird” in the oven No stockings or gifts He sits there unshaven Depression wonʼt shift Avoiding the tele Whose jingles drone on Where crowds form in melees And choirs sing their songs All painful reminders - Separation — apart- His home alone Christmas Is only the start For New Year follows on.... Copyright © 2011 Rod O'Donoghue
Waiting in Heaven She'd sit there in the corner, Curled up like an embryo - shedding silent tears of sorrow in a world I couldn't go. A fortress quite impregnable - her arms clasped round her knees, allowing none to break through she shunned all sympathy. In my pain I watched her, as a tear formed in her eye. It trickled smooth, sedate, serene over the contours of her skin, down past her nose, and then past her mouth gradually arriving at her chin... ...and there it paused, slow motion set in as it fell from the tip of her quivering chin. A sphere formed pure and simple outside the realm of time. Hovering there quite motionless, this tear's a sphere sublime. My mind could hold it no longer - the tear continued its fall. It hit and marked her pale pink top with the faintest stain of all. There's a stain of pain, and sorrow, concealed in all these tears- angelic pearls of paradise which mark our days and years. There are tears of pain and tears of sorrow tears of anger at lost tomorrows then there's tears of laughter and tears of fun - transparent tears of pain and joy each and every one. The falling tears of my Angel, beyond the reach of the sun, I cried at your tears of sadness as you struggled all alone. I still feel the pain and sorrow in each and every one. Copyright © 2011 Rod O'Donoghue