Jingle

 

© 2024 jennifer wagner

Dashing through the snow

in a one-horse open sleigh…

 

OK, so I am actually

dashing through the sun

in a 300 horsepower BMW,

 

but I am still wishing you

all the best and all the brightest

this Christmas

 

from right here in Arizona xo.

 

 

Unsilent Night

Whores and lepers. Sheep shit and fish guts. The real gospel is gritty. The real Jesus is dirty, naked, and unashamed of his great, humiliating sacrifice for those willing to accept such an inglorious, less than glossy delivery, which was not heralded on expensive card stock, which may not have occurred on December 25^th. But it was the first Noel.

star twinkling

angels singing

staffs trembling

after 400 years of silent waiting

christmastime

© 2014 Jennifer Wagner

trying my hand at tanka prose for carpe diem: christmastime

Don't be a Scut Farkus . . .

Have a Merry Christmas!

I triple-dog-dare ya.

Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

Peace on earth?

Good will toward men?

Your two front teeth?

An Official Red Ryder, Carbine Action, Two-hundred Shot, Range Model Air Rifle?

Whatever it is, I hope you get it.

Photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner

I took these photos this past summer in Hammond, Indiana where my husband's awesome Grandma and Aunt live (and where he spent many summers growing up). A Christmas Story was based on Jean Shepherd's book of short stories based on his experiences growing up in Hammond (fictionalized as “Hohman” in the film). Grandma and Grandpa were friends of the real-life “Flick,” who got his tongue stuck to the pole in Shepherd's story. Grandma says it really happened. Today is her 90^th birthday.

Enjoy the Christmas holiday, all . . . and be sure to drink your Ovaltine!

Sky's Advent (a Fibonacci poem)

Stars

fill

and spill

the black orchid

night streaked silken with shimmering,

all flickering in remembrance of one so small.

© 2013 Jennifer Wagner

For dVerse Poetics and the Poetry Pantry

26

26 reasons

to remember why

He came

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

It’s Christmas, but I find it difficult to feel celebratory.  I know most are probably feeling the same way with hearts heavy and broken from last week’s devastation.  And yet I am reminded of why He came.  He came not because He wanted us to decorate trees and drink egg nog and rack up credit card debt giving gifts.  He came because we are in darkness, and He is the Light of the world.  John 8:12  Come, let us behold Him.  Perhaps we have never needed to more.

 

Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

The pizza delivery guy

drives the pizza to my house.

I tip him,

though he had nothing to do

with making it.

And I’m sure he keeps it all

for himself.

Next year I’m writing to the elves.

Signed,

New Perspective

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

For Words Count with Mama Zen at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.  The challenge:  A 50 words or less letter to the big guy.