Holly Leaves

Holiday Poems


A lifelong facination with scalloped green

so dark and crisp edged, too much associated

with strange magical creatures like reindeer

flying and buckles and boots in nonexistent

chimneys and imaginary hearths.


Associate to bells and ribbons, foundation

for wreaths and borders on cards, holly.

Cousin to the laurel for a hero's courageous

brow. Brother to mistletoe in search

of smooching and touching.


Birds visit holly bushes watching the green berries

blush into red to be pecked and carried away or eaten

on the spot, depending on the presence or absence

of pretador-fear. Nature's cornucopea, holly.


A source for the greeness of green and the redliness

of red. Such brilliances are usually only found

in dreams and the imagination. Children know this

trueness of color possibility. Elves know too

and Santa  dyes his suit cloth with the fruit of

holly, did you know?










Author's Notes/Comments: 

I adore the secular side of Chrismas, the myths, the things that make children (and the big kid) smile :D

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