
Itâs time to unveil
a new year. Inhale fresh air,
and care for whatâs there.
Let my voice take wing
to sing in the key of peace.
May mercy increase
where now there are chains.
Where cold-heartedness remains,
may warmth fill my veins.
Let love with no caps
gush compassion, not rationed
in morsels or scraps.
Make me teachable
and easily reachable
when You wish to speak.
Please help me seek You.
In new ways through this new year,
help me feel You near.
© Marie Elena Good, 2021

This year destroyed us.
Iâll never be convinced that
We can survive this.
Thereâs no going back.
I know it. So donât 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.)

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

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 âŠ
your star, a royal diadem.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020

Then, after four years,
the child theyâd 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.

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
âTherefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.â ~ Isaiah 7:14
âThis 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, âJoseph 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.â All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:  âThe virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuelâ (which means âGod with usâ).â ~ Matthew 1:18-23
âShe will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.â ~ Matthew 1:21

Few know of Sue, the Santa Shrew,
and thatâs a curious thing in view
of all the schmoozing she would do
once scooting down each chimney flue.
Sheâd shoot the breeze with skillful ease
in English, Welsh, or Taiwanese,
while feasting on her hostessâ cheese.
Then right back up the flue sheâd squeeze.
âRound every tree, sheâd socialize –
sheâd dramatize and improvise,
and aggrandize, and summarize.
Shrew ebullience, epitomized.
As starlit skies turned pinks and golds,
Sueâd slip âtween Santaâs soft cloak folds
and there, sheâd dream of each household
and all her stories, still untold.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
âTwas 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. Lukeâs account
Of the Christ Childâs birth.
âBy miraculous means
A young woman conceived,
And the baby she bore
Would save all the deceived,â
âWhich includes you and me,â
Santa said, his voice low;
His eyes brimming with tears
From his heartâs overflow.
âAnd the best gift of all
Doesnât come from my sleigh.
No, the best gift of all?
Sacred love, in scant hay.â
© Marie Elena Good, 2020