‘Twas the night before Christmas and all over town, holiday poets were seeking renown.
OK, so that maybe isn’t such a good poem, but the holidays do bring out the rhythm, meter and rhyme in people, and they’ve decided to share it. So put your feet up, sip on some egg nog, turn on the Christmas tree lights and see what inspires the neighbors’ imagination.
Waterworks Magic
Home for the holidays, it’s been a while.
The family gathered — siblings, children,
significant others — one more time.
Crammed into childhood bedrooms meant for one,
I took a walk seeking serenity.
The neighborhood was familiar but worn.
Picture windows leaked yellow candlelight
or a glimpse of a decorated tree.
Fifty years of memories churned under
the wool cap pulled snuggly over my head.
“Where had my life gone?” I wondered aloud
pulling my coat tightly against the wind
I walked and walked on slippery sidewalks
Up one street – down another, roaming
through the West Side, over Dry Creek past the
now closed Parker Elementary School,
then crossing empty Groton Avenue
to the twinkling lights of the Waterworks.
December nights are longer and darker
than those skies found in summer, spring and fall.
Perhaps that’s why the lights shine so brightly,
against the inky, black wintery sky.
Few places highlight this contrast more than
the colorful lights of Cortland’s Broadway.
There’s Santa’s sleigh, empty now, but, of course,
he has returned to the North Pole after
his worldwide task of delivering toys
and goodies to all the good girls and boys.
My pace quickened. My attitude improved.
A smile filled my face the closer I got.
I was transported back to a time when
a penny could buy a piece of candy,
neighbors looked out for one another, and
community was an act not a place.
Sitting in Santa’s vacant sleigh, I felt
the holiday spirit filling my soul.
All around me, the colored lights sparkled,
swirling snows blew through shivering green pines,
and the deer huddled against the cold wind.
I wondered if they knew it was Christmas?
I heard a rustling and a loud snort, then,
a duck’s quack and the loud honking of geese.
It was time to go, to return to now.
Whispering a grateful prayer, I scanned
the blend of Mother Nature and man, then
walked, while cherishing Waterworks magic,
promising to model and share the true
Christmas Spirit throughout the coming year.
Bill Lee
Newark, Delaware
Former greater Cortland area resident
The Truth About Santa Claus
Rumor is, the Grinch is back in town
Claiming Santa is fake news
A figment of someone’s imagination
A Madison Avenue Exec’s campaign
Of obvious misinformation
That greenest of all nasty grumps
Claims there is no scientific proof
That anyone named Santa ever lived
No DNA that some M.E. could test
No finger prints left on a glass of milk
What does exist is circumstantial evidence
Soot footprints on rugs beside the hearth
Half eaten cookies on a plate
Wisps of white hair, strands of red thread
Feint smell of reindeer in the air
Well, I have news for all you disbelievers
While hope lives, no Grinch will steal Christmas
Santa Claus is more than Amazon or Walmart
More than social media or live TV
The man in red is generosity personified
He is the sponsor of the mitten drive
Hot Red Kettle meals for the poor
Cards, calls and texts from family and old friends
Carols wafting from a church with open doors
Gramma’s warm embrace and apple pie
For some, the one we know as Santa Claus
Goes by a dozen different names
But, regardless of the faith or culture
What the old guy represents, is much the same
Look into your hearts — you’ll see it’s true
Frank Kelly
Cortlandville
I should have known
I should have known —
At 8 a.m. the sky was green —
not like pine boughs, not like spinach,
more like key lime jelly beans —
You should have seen,
I wish you’d seen
the set of antlers on my car
It drove away like someone’s sleigh
(I heard it neigh)
Gosh, what a day
And there were cookies
sprouting on the lawn
All the grass was gone
Vanilla icing snowflakes
shone like stars at daybreak
Could this be a mistake?
Should I go back to bed?
I wish I’d known,
but if I’d known
would I have called the local cops,
phoned the paper, told the mayor,
begged them all to make it stop?
The neighbors smiled —
yes, every child
I watched them nibbling on the lawn
Their lips turned white —
O Holy Night —
It’s Christmas, right?
Susan Weitz
Cortlandville
