Poetry

Fort Gratiot Light, Michigan, decorated for the holiday season.

Beacon Of Warmth

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Oh, here I stand, decked out in lights, ribbons, and bows,
Dressed for the season, gleaming from head to toe,
I’ve got a job, sure, guiding ships through the snow,
But right now, I’ve got something more to show,
A glow to offer warmth, in the cold winds that blow.

My light isn’t just for sailors searching the shore,
Tonight it shines brighter, for those seeking something more,
I watch from my tower, as joy gathers near,
Families laughing, voices ringing clear,
And my beacon, with every turn, brings them cheer.

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Poetry
Shopping mall at Christmas.

Stillness Amidst The Display

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The season rolls in with a bright, flashy glow,
But beneath the surface, the stress tends to grow,
Endless to-do lists fill up every spare hour,
In the rush to be merry, joy starts to sour.

Stores overflow with a chaotic display,
As shoppers rush in, losing sight of the day,
The clatter of cash registers drowns out the peace,
While the joy of the season feels harder to seize.

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Poetry
Falling snow on a Xmas tree farm.

Flakes Descend

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The first snow falls gently, a soft and silent shroud,
Blanketing the earth in a crystalline embrace that delights,
Hiding the scars of man’s actions, veiling every harsh line,
Imperfections vanish beneath a layer of soft white lace,
Transforming the world into a vision wrapped in peace, a cloud.

Each flake dances down gracefully, unique in its fleeting flight,
Whispers of tranquility brush against the chilled skin,
The loud, bustling streets grow hushed in pure delight,
As nature’s quilt unfolds, bringing a moment to begin,
In the stillness of snow, the heart learns to feel light.

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Poetry
Couple kissing with the night sky and the Milky Way behind them.

That Kiss

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That Kiss

Even in the world of leather, lace, and longing, that kiss remains supreme,
Soft lips grazing skin, igniting nerves in a way no whip could ever dream.
Chains may bind bodies, but that kiss, oh, that kiss, unbinds the soul,
Fingertips trembling, breaths stolen, hearts pulled into a singular, endless role.
It is the simplest touch, yet it devours, leaving even the boldest bare and whole.

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Poetry
Four people walking with their arms around each other.

Family We Choose

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In the heart of our journey, bonds are forged anew,
With laughter and stories, shared dreams come alive,
Together we navigate the joys and the storms,
These chosen souls surround us, where love will always thrive.

Through trials and triumphs, we find our place,
In the warmth of acceptance, we blossom and grow,
With every embrace, we weave a tapestry bright,
In this circle of trust, our spirits overflow.

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Poetry
A lighthouse about to be hit by a massive wave.

When November Roars

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The gales of November roar, a wild tempest unleashed upon the Great Lakes,
Waves crash violently against the shore, fierce and relentless,
Clouds gather heavy, obscuring the sun, as darkness engulfs the land,
In 1913, the Big Blow raged, claiming ships and lives in its grasp,
Over 250 souls lost, their stories woven into the wind’s mournful howl.

Winds whip fiercely, howling with a fury that knows no restraint,
A reminder of nature’s power, the Armistice Day Storm, a day of sorrow,
On November 11, 1940, winds reached 80 mph, a chaos in the skies,
Fourteen vessels met their fate beneath the waves, swallowed whole,
The echoes of sailors linger, their memories bound in the restless tide.

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Poetry
The stacks in a library.

The Librarian’s Lesson

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In the veil of Halloween, where costumes take flight,
A naughty librarian awaited the night.
With glasses perched delicately upon her nose,
She donned a tight skirt, the kind that seduces and shows.

Her dominant, the professor, wise and refined,
In a tailored suit, with a glint in his mind.
He called for his research, with a voice deep and low,
But the librarian faltered, her focus lost in the glow.

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Poetry
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