This Year

There shall be
  no Christmas tree
   in my home
     this year.


There may go
   no mistletoe
    by the door
      this year.

My entrance:  still
  and unfilled
    by my friends
      this year.

The baking spree
  did not hit me
    for anyone
      this year.

I have no heart
to even start
  the Holiday
    this year.

For, all alone,
  the silence groans
   in aching rounds
     this year.

My quiet prayers
  are for anything fair
    in our old world
      this year.

Christ came, so poor
   to our souls� door
     and shall again
        this year.

I have no needs
  which supersede
   those of so many
     this year.

Just longing, I know
  for a happy home
    and love of my own
     this year.

I am humbly aware
  of God�s gift there
    at the manger mean
      that year.

And truly wish for one, for all
  Peace, Health, and Calm
    in our lives each
     and every year. . .
 
     
�  K.E.Cline, November 1996
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