Clearly an Eggnogy Night it Was

I wish you a Merry Wish mass,
and a Happy New Snow Year ,
with lots of whisky Christmas cheer
and a rampant partridge in your blinking tree.

I swish you a Merry Wishmas
a brightly lit partridge tree
and flitting myrtle doves too.
then,   maybe,     a new Ferrari for you.

I wish you a sherry X Mass
with  partridge dovey turtle trees
and porky piggy I-tunes too

Oh shop until we  swap
on the twelve day of Wish List.
jingling all the way.   Forget the sleigh,
you get all jingle belly.

Oh blimey its confusing
with all the choruses singing:
God rest ye gentlemen,
On the first day of Wishmass.

Oh, twelve geese are  a laying,
eleven ganders a chasing ,
ten loving crows a cawing,
nine rings on every body part,
eight colors dazzling our hearts,
seven wishes tossed in a well,
six bells a ringing, on and on until
five swans go a swimming,
four woodpeckers a pecking,
Three couples a swapping,
two pigs a squealing,
and one rampant partridge in a frosty, blinking tree.

So, I’ll wish you all a Merry Christmas
when my true love curls up with me,
and Santa Claus comes crashing
down the old sooty chim-in-ny.

Kent Bowker 12/16/2014
.

Moon Man

The shadowed moon, darkly unknown looks down
wondering about the white green earth changing
dazzled by the eternal brilliance the long dance
together around and around. His blind white face
sees nothing, but the man in the dark the face
we glimpse, thinking he eats green cheese
the substance we can’t see, sees us, sees
the slow changes: the green advancing
then retreating, the white ice grinding south
and retreating, over and over, millennia pass.

Moon man remembers when he was young
an earth encased in bloody volcanic fire,
spots of crimson, a cloud shadowed black earth
cut by a spreading sea, blocks of land split,
water cleaved, moving, a slow measured gavotte,
till now. The drowsy half moon man wakes, is shocked,
earth night is quirkily changing, the earth’s sleeping half
is awake spotted with light clusters and veins
alive at night, at each turn expanding.
The seas are spreading, the white parts are vanishing
all in a blink of the moon man’s eye.

Kent Bowker   11/22/2014