the green green wreath

the green green wreath

around a painted cross

so bright against the

fallen snow

it's not for show

i remember

the red red flower

upon the old man's collar

so sad among his

fallen friends

it's not pretend

i remember

the gold gold horn

alone in shining air

so pure the note

against the sky

too soon it dies

i remember

Nautical Disaster

I'm sure most of you have a favourite.. here's one of mine.  Thank you so much Gord Downie and The Tragically Hip.  

The seams are all uneven

In the quiet kitchen

In the quiet kitchen she stands,
Dim light on the window,
Upon the drip dry pans
What is she trying to find?
Her place in life?
A man?
A kindred spirit
Who understands?
And the children run by
The woman with the stare,
Toys in hand,
Unaware or without
Care how their mother fares.
She was once a little girl
In a far away place,
Found by God in
His infinite grace.
But with this finger I
Think I could trace
The disappointment in
Her heart.
With my finger gentle
Upon her breast
I would start,
Slowly descending along
The ribs, and lower
Where the legs part.
Perhaps you think it
Crude or cruel?
Yet it's all a symbol,
And I, a fool.