Hello–this is my first post on my new blog.  I am another of those senior citizens dipping a toe into the digital age. Many thanks to my daughter and son-in law, Jennifer and Patrick, professional web designers, for setting this up for me. To start with, I’m sharing a Christmas piece I re-wrote last year from an older piece.  With it, my warm wishes to you and yours for a Merry Christmas and much happier New Year.




Edward Frost

I suspect that the Christmas Spirit is Memory

–personal yet universal,

Collections of shards of other days

Pieced together in this season by common consent,

Making an otherwise commercial venture,

Religious. Communal,

Making it Holy as, by Memory we are recreated:

Born again.

So the bittersweet of this time,

Since recollections are at best mixed blessings.

I sit before my Christmas tree

Gathered with years of former selves

Chattering of how it was in “their” time,

Shouting “I Remember When…”

All my years of former selves come home,

All those who sang carols, opened presents,

Gave gifts of perfume and after-shave,

Lay still, listening through sleepless Holy Nights.

All my children crowd and dance about

As I hurry from place to place,

Clutching, tugging, plucking, holding, noisy

Calling Wait! Wait! Look!  Look!

Remember when we…?

My children. My spirits of Christmas past

Who make of all my seasons one.

I tell them stories.  They tell me truths

In sweet innocence of truth’s pain.

My family of self reunited,

Come bringing gifts of Memory,

Too young to know the sadness

Of too much recollection unwrapped.

We sing together at Christmas,

Now cracking bass with sweet tenor choir.

I and all my children.

Voices urging above distant murmurings

from other rooms in other times.

A silent night, then.

And another child is born.