When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even Ann’s mouse.
Greetings sent out by email with care,
In hopes that loved ones received them out there.
The children with cousins and laptops in beds,
With visions of dumplings and k-beef in heads.
“Stonemama” in sweats and papa in ripped tees,
Had just settled down with a book all at ease.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from our bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and saw a great dash.
The moon in the sky of a clear Cali night
Gave a luster of awe, a bright shining light.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature choir and worship so dear.
With a little ol’ hymn, so lively and deep,
I knew in a moment, it must be for keep.
A spirit of love wrapping pains from the years,
Called each of our names right into our ears.
Now, Lukey! Now, Mikey! Now, Ian and Ann.
On, Wangs! On, Suks! On, friends and fam!
From the tops of our mind to the flesh of our heart
Now sing with joy. Be at peace. Do right from the start!
As ‘22 passes, ‘23 starts anew
We’re all praying that no one, not one gets the flu.
I resolve to be good with help from above,
Then break it at once as a rude driver does shove.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my head,
“You’re just in a mood, you just need to be fed!”
As I drew in my head, and was turning to eat
I just got grossed out by my teenagers feet!
“When did you get so big and so hairy,” I ask.
“Grunt” they replied. “Grunt, grunt” through their mask.
A bundle of hormones they flung through the air
They looked like wee men, but still babies, my heir.
Their eyes — how they twinkled, their pimples, how merry.
Their cheeks were all stubbled; it looked kind of scary.
Their friends flooded in, they were all grown and kind.
It was fun to see them mature in heart and in mind.
They greeted the dog Jasper who pee’d on their shoes
Then greeted us parents before kids we did lose.
Quiet again, just us two and our talking dog Jasper
We turned on a movie but felt sleepy even faster.
Again in our bed, my work on the shelf
I shut my eyes, in spite of myself.
A wink of my lids and a twist of my head
Soon gave me to know slumbering was not dread.
I spoke many words asleep as when awake
Dreams in deep REM did not feel fake.
Stories did whirl and heroes were made
I wrote them down before they would fade.
The stories they sprang to the page like a whistle
Fiction, non fiction aim for the heart like a missile.
But no matter the tale, with low downs and high heights,
Blessed New Years to all and to all Godly nights.