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Showing posts from December, 2016

Winter is surely here now

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Snow is piling up here in the northern hemisphere. We're getting winter cold and the precipitation to match. We're also getting closer to Christmas, a holiday that comes with faith-based understanding.  Throughout Advent, we wait, even as people in the time before Jesus was born, only they waited for decades, maybe even centuries for the promised one that God would send as Saviour. We wait while stores play Christmas tunes and carols, host Santa Claus and seduce us to buy, buy buy so that our loved ones will be excited on Christmas morning or Christmas Eve, whenever the holiday celebrations are held in our family. We give gifts too, and try to do it without the excess that strains our January and February budgets. Trying to stay within our means and remember that Christmas is about celebrating the Saviour of the world. More on that in a few days. Today, a poem about winter, published by Tower Poetry in its Winter Edition 2004-2005, Vol. 53 No. 2 Frozen Beauty

If books could talk

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promoting our upcoming book, Good Grief People, and others in Arthur, Ontario I love books and libraries. Is it any wonder that I have a shelf full of them? Make it shelves for I have several. I've begun to give books away after I read them, or loan them and not worry about the return. Except for certain books, and anthologies in which I had some part. Imagine walking into a library where the books have voices, the voice of the author reading them. Instead of quiet library it could be rather noisy. Maybe not the best place to read, but... Here we go:  If Books Could Talk Silent libraries shelve rows and rows of books            spines exposed       to grab wandering            explorers philosophers poets dreamers         builders   with hammers waiting if books had voices        the walls would thunder        with ten thousand voices        asserting     proclaiming      entertaining        louder than cheering fans at a champi