Your Christmas Poem

Here it is early Christmas morning. I should be in bed, but my baby sister, Leah, asked for a poem. I told her it would end up being terribly sad, and she said “sounds perfect.” My three siblings, no matter how old we get, still feel an incredible urge to be together for Christmas.

The last Christmas memory I have of us, as a nuclear family, is from when I was 12. It isn’t a positive memory, in all honesty. I remember my parents fighting in the only bathroom our house had, but it was one of the farthest rooms from the Christmas tree, so that’s where they went in an effort to shelter us from their crumbling marriage.

My parents needed to be away from the tree, because that’s where the four of us were sleeping. We were in a row with all four heads as far under the tree as possible.

We always decorated a real tree. Dad would load us all up into the pickup and we’d drive out to a small town called Ong. I’m not sure we were allowed to call Ong a town, it was more like a village, but a Christmas tree farm was located close by and we went every year.

This particular year, we walked a while before finding the perfect tree. I had my heart set on the best looking tree. Dad tried to warn me that it was too big for our living room, but I wouldn’t listen. I dug my heals in and insisted we cut the tree down and take it home.

Dad cut the tree down happily. We all helped carry it back to the pickup. Dad was great about choosing his battles with his children. Not much ever stirred him up, if I remember correctly. Calm, cool and relaxed is the best way to describe him. Mom could be described the same way now. Back then I think she looked at his coolness as more of a detriment to the greater good, if ya know what I mean.

My dad once crushed a man’s fist with his bare hand. The reason had something to do with witnessing this man strike his wife with the force of ten men. I suppose we all have limits, but I digress.

Y’all, the tree was enormous. We couldn’t place it in front of the picture window of our house, because of the size. We had to place it into a corner and hope for the best. The tree must have taken up the majority of two walls, but no one cared. We laughed over that tree for hours, maybe even days.

Anyway, this is what runs through my mind while trying to find the right words for a poem.

I thought I’d share a few silly giggles we had while chatting tonight…

Baby and her crew are in Colorado for Christmas. As they were reaching their destination she snaped this picture:

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She says we made it…only three individual lights glowing out here in the middle of nowhere and we all have the same last name. Colorado farm country can be a lonely place.

Middle was also traveling for Christmas tonight. Somewhere near the Oklahoma panhandle is her destination. Middle came out of the womb a city girl, but married a country boy, so we often giggle over her adventures. She sent me this update:

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“Aud, the last truck ahead of us just turned. We’re officially alone out here and it’s spooky.” (Gorgeous picture, Bean!)

Lastly, Big Brother’s holding his own fort down and doing his part for Santa. Not sure cookies go with his drink of choice, but he’s the oldest and I’m not gonna argue with him, plus someone at his house just got a set of drums…

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So yeah, that was our Christmas Eve giggle session. Oh, I did share this photo with them, but know that you may not hold me accountable for finishing it.

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Here’s your poem, my loves.
*****

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Christmas without you,
Never seems the same,
The food tastes worse,
And usually, ’tis game.
Hunting is frequent,
Among midwestern plains,
So the complaining must quit,
There’s only you to blame.
Of course we’d rather be together,
Sitting inside Big Brother’s barn,
We all know what happened last year,
Not one of us tried looking for a star.
We were all far too busy singing songs,
About whiskey and honky tonk bars,
To remember how often we’re apart,
A new Christmas memory is now ours.

Okay, it’s 2:40 AM….I’m spell checking and that’s all. My siblings got their Christmas wish. Anything that doesn’t make sense we’ll blame on Eggnog. Merry Christmas!!

Mary Did You Know

Let the record stand that Audrey Dawn did not back down from a challenge. Two takes…this was the better of the two, so I’m going with it.

I was challenged to spread Christmas cheer by recording a holiday favorite and asking my followers to join in. I’m giving you all a pass with the hopes that you’ll go easy on your comments of my fearless attempt to sing Mary Did You Know.

Boom!

Merry Christmas, Y’all.

I reserve the right to delete this at any time, so you’d better hurry and listen. I have no idea why my entire picture is attached to this recording. My guess is because SoundCloud knows it just adds to my humble moment in the sun. (Newbie!)  Kill me now. Ha. Ha. Ha. Maybe y’all could listen with your eyes shut for your old pal, Aud. Even though you can’t see my eyes I’m bright red at the thought of this post, but I won’t end the year being a chicken sh*t, so here goes nothin’… I’m down to the wire on this, as I was challenged a while back, but better late than never. I had to convince myself I could survive the humiliation I feared. In all honesty, I’ve never felt more safe than right here on my blog, Oldest Daughter Redheaded Sister…

For Heaven’s sake spread Christmas cheer or this is all for not!

I think I’m nearly ready for Christmas and I hope you are, as well. I love you, always. ~Aud

Musical Gift

Handel’s Christmas (12 guitars!) — Vince Carrola: http://youtu.be/kDnscekmpMU

The final weekend before Christmas and we’re all scurrying around trying to put the bows on those last few gifts. Maybe you’re succumbing to the fact that you’ll need to stand in one more line at the mall. Just so the smile you’re hoping for, on Christmas morning, arrives when your child opens their final gift. I’m reflecting on the reason for the season this morning, and as I do, once again Duke’s music fills my ears.

The professor, is a truly gifted guitarist, clarinetist, composer and arranger, who is finally sharing his talent on WordPress. Enjoy.

Oh, and if you find yourself in line somewhere play this on your phone and sing along. Give the gift of this arrangement to those in a hurry and remind them to slow down. Breath. Relax. Enjoy.

He combines, effortlessly, two of my favorite midnight service songs, found in thousands of churches on Christmas Eve, in this video shot in Pittsburgh. I can hear the choir already. I cannot wait.

Have a great weekend!

And Duke, thank you for such a lovely reminder. I know you give me a pretty hard time and I get quite the smiles making you blush, but I knew you were someone special a year and a half ago. I sensed it in your writing.

Your talent is easily found as clear, concise and encouraging, which not many writers accomplish after a lifetime of creating, so you’re way ahead of many. I’m thankful to know you and to call you my friend.

Now, y’all sit back and be AMAZED!!

Vince J. Carrola has been hiding far too long here on WordPress. He’s a musical genius, my friends. At the age of three he began playing guitar and by sixteen had arranged, composed and published his first book of rearranged classics. His music can be found on YouTube.

Before I go, if that wasn’t enough, Vince and his team have been working all year on perfecting the art of producing videos, and it shows. They have come so far this year. I could go on and on, but I’ll stop so you all can enjoy their talent.

Honestly, there isn’t anything this man cannot do, of that I’m certain. Blessing to you, always, Duke.

Merry Christmas!!

Moms, unlock your daughters. You want this gentleman playing guitar by your tree, I assure you.
(He’ll kill me for that…but it’ll be worth it.) *sparkles*

( Another guitar video from The Punchy Lands!)

Southern Winter (Haibun)

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Do you ever have moments where you find yourself wishing, if even for a few brief seconds, you would’ve shared a sunrise like this with someone special?

Me, too.

When an unexplainable dawn leaves me breathless, this is when I need you the most. You could use your words to help me see her beauty, possibly the greatness that could come from today.

Instead, I’ll leave you with this:

A breathless dawning
Winter doesn’t look the same
Take me to the snow

Tonight, This Is Who I Am

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Preparing for tonight,
Charcoal dress pressed,
Shoes red, high.
Silver jewels, a favorite,
My simple black scarf,
Crimson curls pinned back,
Yet teasing my neck.
Christmas party, downtown,
Minute Maid Park, banquet.
Will smell of testosterone,
And weaken my reserve,
Of this, I’m quite sure.
Best smile upon my face,
Dimples ready to play,
You’ll have it no other way.
Final wish for tonight,
Small of my back,
And your hand in place.
Quick look into my mirror,
Remembering who I am,
Just a small town girl,
Confident, yet amazed.

Mindful Clutter

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humbly,
how do I handle,
every thought found,
deep inside?
born,
without a voice,
kept hidden,
under my control.
bundled,
tightly upon,
my breasts,
ache, alive and well.
slowly,
pushing my mind,
irrationally so,
towards giving up.
aware,
i’m only one,
emotional woman,
who’s unworthy.
mindful,
i’m gravitating,
towards views,
full of clutter.
asking,
to sit beside,
material rubble,
for peace.

Proof

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I counted
You placed me in danger
Thirteen separate times
In two hours
Don’t tell me that you love me
When I know that’s a lie

***
I remember promising you guys that I would post a picture of the doodlings I sketch out, while waiting for words to arrive on paper. An epiphany occurred after I’d drawn this picture, then a poem created from a memory.

The picture is meaningless, well not the thirteen heavily drawn red tallies, it seems, which have permanently indented the next few pages of my tablet, but overall it’s just doodles.

What I’ve realized is that actions DO speak louder than words. Yes, this message has been heard a million times before, I know. Now, the missive is understood. Finally. Lack of protection will never translate into love. Not for me, anyway.