CHRISTMAS PEACE

© 2001 by K. H. Strom

morning glistened,
starch-white, icicle crisp,
squeaking with Arctic cold,
a pale and distant sun
glowed without warmth
through filmy curtains
of ice-crystal fog,

across the city,
row upon row,
soft columns of white
rose briskly upward
from cosy homes
snuggling into the serenity
of Christmas week,

gone was the rush of traffic
the busy shopping throng,
at last had come
the peace proclaimed

time lingered lovingly
over us
in that dear Holy week
blessing the final hours
of the dying year.


PUPPY'S PRAYER

© 2001 by K. H. Strom

Are they lost -
or am I
where did they go
my first true friends
and where that place
I love so dear.

I miss a voice
a certain touch
I'm scared
and lonely here.

Strange hands are these
that feed me now
though kind enough
and fair - I want back
what was mine before
when I was
a puppy there.

Please help me Lord
to find the door
that leads to
home again.


MEMORIES

© 2001 by K. H. Strom

years fall by
in silken whispers
sudden to stand at
yesterday's door

there, first home
beginnings - paradox
bride's castle of
delight - despair

there the girl,
a weary stranger
lost in foreign land
learning - doing,
life demanding
often more
than she can give
tears behind
a smile flashing

there every girl
becoming woman,
determined
to be brave