They made rolling stone.
Faces on the cover page.
Straight from the north pole.
Its, the Kris Kringle Eight.
Dash keeps the books and don't make mistakes.
Dancer and Prancer sing backup first rate.
Vix is the mixer and sets up the stage.
Comet plays guitar without restraint.
Cupid plays a flute, but he's always late.
Dons on the drums, he sets the pace.
Blitzen plays a Gibson, jazzy bass.
Rudy sings lead, cause he's got the range.
Up on the roof.
what do we hear?
Rock n Roll music.
From Santas reindeer.
Merry Christmas, Happy holidays. God bless us Everyone.
I watch the Sunday morning sun gently hit the sidewalk
And the gentle rays slowly enter my room,
Another day for me of loneliness,
Another day of gloom.
But the Good Lord knows I’ve learned to accept it all one day at a time,
Yes I still remember those sweet memories and thankful
For the good times.
My memory goes back to Bobby, good ole Bobby Magee,
Why we had spent many a good time together footloose and fancy free.
Why we had even planned that together we would one day shake hands with The devil his self
Only one day he just done left to do it with out me.
Now I sit here waiting for the daylight to change again
To night,
It's sad to be so lonely
Help me make through the night
In memory of Kris Kristofferson June 22,1936 - September 28,202
With the use of a few of his tunes sprinkled in.
To Kris
I shall not count the nights when woes break down my door
Preying brutally on the affliction that corrupts my soul
I shall not count the tears that have dared to break my courage
Only the moments of bravery in the midst of this carnage
I shall not mourn for the evil that has befallen my womb
with words of darkness, despair, and impending doom
Instead I shall call out your name on my lips with utmost love
And carve out a memory as glorious as the skies above
My dearest son, your untimely passing has created a void
But a space filled with both anguish and a flicker of hope
And i shall not embrace my suffering as to kiss death's throne
For i know even in your passing you are back home
Loving you Eternally,
Your Mother
Kris Radhakrishnan is my favourite poet
Any topic, any form he can pen a beautiful poem
He writes serious poems that leave a message behind
Also funny ones that make you laugh aloud
Some of his poems have unexpected end
They makes you wonder the play of mind and thoughts
His topics are varied from pillow to car
He can create a funny story out of common incidences
He feels and writes for others,
He is compassionate,he wrote for line
His poems are easy to understand,
They leave a lasting impression on mind
Every day I read his poem's
They fill me with joy and happiness
Most of his poems have fixed syllable count
I wonder how he manages that so beautifully despite a busy schedule
He is a doctor treating corona patients
And feels guilty when he is given leave
I am in awe of him.
He is truly a great human
Keep the ink flowing Kris
I look forward to reading your poems everyday
Kris Kringle
Rudolph too
Bells jingle
Jesus’ birth
Blood so blue
Wise men earth
Christmas joy
God bless you
Come here boy
Written 12-18-2019
Contest: Have a Merry 3 Cubed Christmas Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
The sleigh is brimming
Reindeer well-rested and fed
Bells ringing... Away!
The kids were all ready for Christmas
While under the tree sat their wish lists--
Heard a big rumble
From a big tumble--
Seems it was the chimney that Kris missed
They ran out to see the commotion
Witnessed Santa downing a potion--
Their eyes grew so wide
That in came the tide--
Their gifts floated in on the ocean!
I consider Christian a good friend to me
He stands tall, as a mighty oak tree
Who could imagine or want to see
An oak fall so devastatingly
When she was taken so savagely
Kris
He ranted, he raved so angrily
He cursed and yelled quite bitterly
Then he would sadly cry to me
And ask, “Why? Why? Why?” to me
Would God take the mother of his baby?
Kris
He made an effort to move on then
I tried to be a supportive friend
I doubt he read the things I’d send
Then he’d ask me, “When? When? When?”
Would his heart’s healing for her begin?
Kris
I can picture him very late at night
With his eyes closed real, real tight
Picturing the two of them in the bright sunlight
Knowing these feelings are not those he can fight
So he whispers to no one in the night
I love you, Kris.
Christian is a friend of mine
He stands tall, as a big oak tree
Who could imagine a tree falling
So devastatingly...
as when he got the news of the passing of
Kris
He ranted and he raved at me
He cursed and he yelled at me
Then he would cry to me
And ask “Why? Why? Why?” to me
“would God take away the mother of my child?”
Kris
He made an effort to move on then
I tried to be a supportive friend
I doubt he read the things I’d send
Then he’d ask me, “When? When? When?”
He wanted to know when the healing began from losing
Kris
I can picture him late at night
With his eyes closed real, real tight
Picturing the two of them in the bright sunlight
Knowing his feelings aren’t those he can fight
So he whispers to no one in the night
I love you, Kris.
If there is one thing
To make the senses tingle
It’s the coming of
The good Kris Kringle
On Christmas Eve
We wait and pray
For good Kris Kringle
To come our way