pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

ON 2020

Photo credit: Keith R. Good

This year destroyed us.
I’ll never be convinced that
We can survive this.

There’s no going back.
I know it. So don’t tell me
Better times will come.

God no longer cares.
Hear me. Do not believe that
God is in control.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

This poem is 3 stanzas.  Each stanza has 17-syllables (5/7/5).  This is my first ever attempt at a Reverse format poem. (Read the poem from the top line, down … and then read it from the bottom line, up.)

MY INTERVIEW WITH SANTA OVER AT POETIC BLOOMINGS!

HO, HO, HO! What a ride we had!

CLICK HERE FOR MY INTERVIEW WITH SANTA CLAUS!
MERRY CHRISTMAS, ALL!

O HUMBLE TOWN OF SPLENDID STAR

Image by Jeff Jacobs from Pixabay

O Bethlehem,
do you know the One you have birthed?
Let the earth rejoice;
raise her voice in song! 
For the long-awaited Christ was born of Mary –
the very woman the angel blessed. 
She feeds the King at her breast,
as angel choirs sing praise,
and a star blazes above you,
O little town. 

No crown for this babe
who is able to save,
and will conquer the grave someday

yet for now, rests in hay –

This Way. 
This Truth. 
This Life.

O Bethlehem …
your star, a royal diadem.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

UNTITLED 5/7/5

Then, after four years,
the child they’d nurtured as theirs
returned to birth mom.


© Marie Elena Good, 2020


It was actually shy of four years, but no matter.

Some people think I am a kind and caring woman. The fact is that I have not chosen the hard roads … the selfless roads … that some I greatly admire, have. It takes someone very special to foster children. It takes someone willing to brace themselves to get their heart ripped out of their chest. Even the possibility of that happening right before Christmas. I’m thankful for those willing to do that. God forgive me, I have never been one of them.

Sam and Ian, just … just, so much admiration. You bring me to tears.

CHRISTMAS CONTEMPLATION (Sonnet to Creator/Savior/King)

At Christmastime, reflecting on our God,
I see a rich and sumptuous show of grace.
A story so enthralling bids me laud
A baby boy, born in a lowly place.

God simply breathed, and life then came to be.
He spoke-spilled stars that move at His command.
He fashioned sand and man, and shell and sea,
This God who values meek, as well as grand.

So when it came to paying debt of sin,
He chose to do the grandest thing of all
In such a way that awes me deep within:
Majestic use of unforeseen, and small.

A vulnerable newborn was His means,
Born of a humble woman in her teens.


© Marie Elena Good, 2020


“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”  ~ Isaiah 7:14

“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:  “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).”  ~ Matthew 1:18-23

“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”  ~ Matthew 1:21


Schmoozy Sue, the Santa Shrew

Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

Few know of Sue, the Santa Shrew,
and that’s a curious thing in view
of all the schmoozing she would do
once scooting down each chimney flue.

She’d shoot the breeze with skillful ease
in English, Welsh, or Taiwanese,
while feasting on her hostess’ cheese.
Then right back up the flue she’d squeeze.

‘Round every tree, she’d socialize –
she’d dramatize and improvise,
and aggrandize, and summarize.
Shrew ebullience, epitomized.

As starlit skies turned pinks and golds,
Sue’d slip ‘tween Santa’s soft cloak folds
and there, she’d dream of each household
and all her stories, still untold.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020


GIFT

Photo: Marie Elena Good

The best gift of all
Doesn’t come from a sleigh.
No, the best gift of all?
Sacred love, in scant hay.


(c) Marie Elena Good, 2020

CHRISTMAS CARD

Photo credit: Keith R. Good

‘Twas the morning of Christmas,
And Santa was spent,
Having just returned home
From his yearly event.

After taking his shower
And downing his Joe,
He awoke Mrs. Claus
With a sweet kiss hello.

On their loveseat they sat
With the best Book on earth
To read St. Luke’s account
Of the Christ Child’s birth.

“By miraculous means
A young woman conceived,
And the baby she bore
Would save all the deceived,”

“Which includes you and me,”
Santa said, his voice low;
His eyes brimming with tears
From his heart’s overflow.

“And the best gift of all
Doesn’t come from my sleigh.
No, the best gift of all?
Sacred love, in scant hay.”

© Marie Elena Good, 2020







Holiday Leftovers Dinner?

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

The once-mighty turkey is … slight.
There’s not a potato in sight.
The gravy’s spread thinner –
 More snack-like than dinner.
The fridge was attacked late last night.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Thanksgiving, 2020

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

This year’s Thanksgiving
is like a tweaked simile:
two peas in a pot.

© Marie Elena Good, 2020