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Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

Silver Star Winery of Texas Silver Star Farm and Ranch of Texas

Silver Star Winery of Texas
Silver Star Farm and Ranch of Texas

It is here, Christmas Day, another counting of our lives on this earth.  Over the last year my WordPress family of now a little over 300 followers, and now at 45,000 hits as of today, December 25th, 2013, have become more important in my life, than ever.  Within that select group is another special group of individuals, that I wish where with me this day, sitting at our dining room table this Christmas afternoon. 

To each of you I render a special hug, and a heartfelt thanks for the many sharings via comments on my poetry work and personal view comments.  When the quality of your friends become many steps above the folks that you call you friend that are your reality friends, one truly knows then, they found the right place to be.  That place for me in my heart, is with my WordPress Family.  Blessings and peace to each of you in your future and our eternal lives together, with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ

John J. Rigo and Linda Stewart-Rigo
Silver Star Winery of Texas
Silver Star Farm and Ranch of Texas
Eustace, Texas 75124

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Courtesy of sion.hr

 
Steely the night shown against iced blackness
with a white diamond star blazing in the heavens.
Hints of soft voices whispered in the wind.
 
The weary shepherds pushed forward on their staffs
looking forward to the comfort of their tents.
Beyond the hills the sky glowed.
 
A choir of voices was heard with a sweet clarity
the sound of bells vibrated among the sound of horns.
The animals spooked deaf to the commands of their masters.
 
The wind increased in its volume and strength.
The shepherds were filled with fear.
Light overshadowed the darkness
during the midst of night.
 
Within the light formed
the most beautiful soft
white and gold of human-like forms
shining against the sky.
 
The shepherd’s breath stopped in their throats.
Filled with excitement and happiness beyond their capacity to describe
their skin prickled.
 
Heavenly voices brought words to their ears
words singing of kindness
understanding
peace
and anticipation to these men of the field.
 
The voices told of a special child that would
unlock the gates of fear and bring eternal love
to the future of the world.
 
This happened on a special night
a long long time ago. 
 
 

 

 

 

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Courtesy of the special collection of the University of Washington

 
 
It had been many years since he felt that way.
It was a rerun in his memory of the past.
There was fifty years between them.
She was outright flirting with him.
 
He was uncomfortable with it.
He was sitting right there with his Bride.
She acted like his bride was not even in the room.
 
Maybe it was how she got right into his face.
She looked at him like he was something really special.
She touched his knee under the table
as she kneeled before them on the side of the table
to take their dinner order.
 
Just when he accepted that his youth was long gone
she had to come along and remind him
what it felt like to be desired.
She was unfair in doing what she did.
 
Leaving behind the passions of youth
is not an easy thing for a man to do.
The move from passion to wisdom
is painful for any man.  
 
Perhaps ladies there is a lesson here.
Men of Passion never die in their hearts.
The burning heat of creation is part of their DNA.
Never treat your man like he is no longer alive.
 
Within every silver-headed man
still lies the young boy
remembering
wanting
desiring.
 
Laugh not at Passion.
It is as old as the centuries.
Forever faithful.
Forever remembering.
What it was like
to have been loved. 
 
Commentary on Poem:  Shortly after I posted this poem and shared it with one of my friends, their comment was, “John, some folks would just about do anything for a big tip, especially a twenty year old.”  His comment was filled with great laughter.  Frankly I joined the laughter with many big “Ha-Ha’s” on my part.  There is much truth in the saying,  “There is no fool, like an old fool.” Lol 
 

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“An Exploding Sun” Courtesy of cbsnews.com

A Sun in our universe
exploding into billions of pieces of ash.
An existence of billions of years.
 
A daily occurrence in our Universe
is such in the millions of light years
around us.
 
Our lifetimes upon this Earth
but an average of seventy-odd years.
Dust and ash will we also become.
 
Is there a difference in these two happenings?
We can only pray there is
in an eternal soul blessed by the Father.
 
Make a difference in the Universe.
It is your gift to your Father.
Give a part of yourself this day. 
 

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Courtesy of telegraph.co.uk

Courtesy of telegraph.co.uk

This is a magical Christmas story from my past.
It was a new beginning for my life in 71′
a new marriage and becoming the Step-Father
of three children was my accomplishment.
 
It was Christmas eve 
just a few minutes before midnight.
We just got home from a trip to a family
gathering in Dallas.
 
It was cold with clear night skies
as we began to hear the sound of sleigh bells
over our home.
 
We all stood outside the front door
of our home in amazement,
as we hear the bells from far away
come closer overhead
then pass over our house
then on to the distance in sound.
 
We could not see anything overhead
but we all knew that evening
truly  St. Nick and his sleigh
had passed
somehow
over our home.
 
 

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Courtesy of sion.hr

 
Steely the night shown against iced blackness
with a white diamond star blazing in the heavens.
Hints of soft voices whispered in the wind.
 
The weary shepherds pushed forward on their staffs
looking forward to the comfort of their tents.
Beyond the hills the sky glowed.
 
A choir of voices was heard with a sweet clarity
the sound of bells vibrated among the sound of horns.
The animals spooked deaf to the commands of their masters.
 
The wind increased in its volume and strength.
The shepherds were filled with fear.
Light overshadowed the darkness
during the midst of night.
 
Within the light formed
the most beautiful soft
white and gold of human-like forms
shining against the sky.
 
The shepherd’s breath stopped in their throats.
Filled with excitement and happiness beyond their capacity to describe
their skin prickled.
 
Heavenly voices brought words to their ears
words singing of kindness
understanding
peace
and anticipation to these men of the field.
 
The voices told of a special child that would
unlock the gates of fear and bring eternal love
to the future of the world.
 
This happened on a special night
a long long time ago. 
 
 

 

 

 

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Courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

(The little boy’s story in the poem is true and a time from my own past.) This Christmas Season of 2013, I was thinking of my Father. This poem mentions him several times. I remember how dirty he was when he came home from work when I was a little boy. My Father was an iron and steel worker.  After he came home and took a bath, my Mother would then attempt to clean the ring out of the bathtub from his bath.  Many times with close to a half hour of scrubbing, she still could not get it out.  In those days, my Father made about a hundred dollars a week.  He worked very hard for that money.

*****************************************

 
 
I remember fondly Christmas’ past
our first tree alive with lights
before it caught fire later that week.
 
I remember fondly the Christmas with toys.
Never before had my brother and I received toys.
How angry my Father became when we broke several
toys after a few hours of play.
 
It was my Father’s first Christmas bonus
as a steel worker.
He spent that bonus on toys for us that Christmas.
He thought those toys would never break.
 
I remember fondly a special Christmas as a kid
when no money was available whatsoever for toys.
We found a punch-out cardboard castle in a
department store window.
 
One dollar and ninety-eight cents was the price of that castle.
My young brother and I played with it for days.
A punch-out castle was the best toy we ever had.
 
I remember fondly Christmas past,
acting in the church Christmas pageant.
I was a little child with the beard of a prophet
shaking in a spotlight in the church play.
It snowed that night.
 
My best friend and I asked
permission to keep wearing the beards.
A most beautiful snow floated through the air
as we walked home together.
 
The dirty streets of the city were made
clean and white with heavy, swirling snow flakes.
We sang church carols walking home
our arms around each other’s shoulder.
How close to baby Jesus we were back then.
 
I remember fondly Christmas’ past
when life seemed so much simpler.
Joys more easily shared with
laughter much deeper than now.
 
Still I thank God that I had those Christmas’ past
even to this special day of a new Christmas.
Another December which will also will soon be gone
into the misty memory of another Christmas’ past.  

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"The results of not practicing Tough Love"

“The results of not practicing Tough Love”

Earlier in my life in a previous marriage I became a step-father to three children.  When I married their Mother, the youngest boy was age six named _ _ _ _ _.  _ _ _ _ _ _ was both a druggie, thief and mentally unbalanced.  I suspect the mental problems came from his Father at his own birth since his real Father died of a drug overdose.  The boy for fourteen years of that marriage brought me nothing but pain and grief each day of that marriage.  When it came to choosing between me or him by now my ex-wife of more than thirty years ago, she choose him.  He destroyed her life both from a mental point of view beside a financial one.  Today my ex lives in the same now broken down home because of this boy who today in his late forties has been in and out of prison and more than likely is living with her.  His life and her life are a great example of what “Tough Love” and its lack of on her part, is all about.  The following poem is on the first page of my first published poetry book.

 

The house was saddened.
Though occupied it appeared not.
The uncut hedge nearest the street
rose to a height of many feet.
 
The brushes around the house
had not been trimmed in close to a year.
Amidst peeling paint
and wild dandelions in the yard
was a yearning for love
which the house received
year’s past.
 
Inside the home pale and yellowed walls reflected
the internal sickness that destroyed the love
of its adult inhabitants.
 
A sickness born of a young mind
bounded by the disciplines of evil in his youth.
Torn wallpaper marked the first surrender
of this youth’s mother
to a childish whim in year’s past.
 
Pride departed
now shown in the dishes and pots
piled on the kitchen sink
with crusted leftovers
from last week.
  
The curtains were partly open
from a previous night
not for the sun of day
but a beacon to unwelcomed intruders
of night by the youth of the house.
 
The smell of evil engulfed the house.
A pungent sickly odor exhaled by the youth
of the house which brought the gaze
of forgetfulness to the point of nowhere.
 
He sat proudly overseeing his domain.
His position secure to sleep
to play to reach new highs
in his world of bright lights
and swirling thoughts.
 
He had won.
He now had his mother
his protector and provider
all to himself.
 
The man of the house
which became no one
departed with his things.
 
The youth laughed
and laughed
in sheer joy
at his victory.  
 

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"The Lord Defeats my Enemies Thru Michael who brings Death  and Destruction to their doors.....Bless the Lord's name, be in awe in the power of his angel."

“The Lord Defeats my Enemies Thru Michael who brings Death and Destruction to their doors…..Bless the Lord’s name, be in awe in the power of his angel.”

 
 
Saint Michael My Protector
I call on you in the Mighty Name of Jesus
to Protect my Beloved from the Evil
that has been brought upon our household.
 
Remove all powers from The Evil One
and their covey of assistants
that have brought a dark shadow across my Beloved. 
 
Let Evil One’s darkness be forever removed from our home.
From this moment to never darken our home again.
Let my Beloves’ Goodly Spirit be renewed again
by the Love of my Lord and His protection.
 
Thank You Jesus
for letting the Mighty Michael 
stand in place in our home
forever guarding us from this Evil
to never hurt us again.

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With the passing of time
I have come to realize that there are truly
spaces that are never filled
by the loss of friends who were very personal
to my mind and heart.
 
Through the years
do the memories of Cliff and Tom
constantly come to my mind.
Never are they dead in my heart.
 
I see each of them
special in their concern for me
as the friends they were to me
and yes the love they rendered to me.
 
Have they been replaced in the void left by their absence?
No one has accomplished that.
Cliff was the short, large man from the deep South
always with a tale of lesson and advice not wanted
but when given
seemed well placed.
 
He spoke of home and craw-fish
his Mother and his victories in life
never of his losses.
 
You knew he was special
a special person to know.
The same stories he related never got old
just deeper in meaning.
 
The straight-laced
IBM type of guy was Tom.
He seemed to have found victories too early in his life
burning, dying as a shooting star.
 
An anger was present about him that could never be explained.
Tom loved a good meal and good drinks.
Save the waiter or waitress who spoke too much while serving!
He was there to savor the moment
should it be his last.
 
As Tom’s life was coming to an end
he maintained his pride to the last minute in a VA hospital
wearing a blue blazer that no longer fit;
no one cared about his past.
 
I miss Tom’s advice to me,
his laughter at my watch
that he thought was such a great sales job
because I had to push a button
to tell time.
 
His loud laughter rang in the night
raising high his special drink
to wish me and all
the best of life.
 
I miss both of these men.
They were the special friends of a lifetime
never to be replaced.
 
They are in my heart each day
with the warmest of love to my dearest friends
Cliff and Tom.
 
Whenever you both may be
in the great wonder of it all
I am one person
who misses you both
oh……….. ever so much.
 

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