February’s meant for couples— Roses and romance, And looks that say “I love you,” Exchanged within a glance. But what if I don’t fit that mold? It doesn’t quite seem fair; Are loneliness and heartache then, All that I can share? “Oh, no,” cries the wing-tipped cherub, “Please don’t think so small. Love’s not just for lovers; Love is meant for all!”
Author note: This poem was originally written two years ago. I realize that Thanksgiving was unique this year. However maybe we can use this to remember the good times past and hope for better times to come. . . .
This year the feast is at your house, and you will be the host. You want it to be perfect, but not so you can boast; It’s just with all the family, there will be quite a crowd And you want serve a special meal to make the Pilgrim’s proud!
Easter, yes, that holiday That signals start of spring— That marks rebirth, renewal, And all that sort of thing. It brings bouquets of flowers In yellows, pinks, and blue, And cheerful eggs that have been dipped In dye of every hue.
Deep in fairy forest, A cheery fire burns— Around it dance the leprechauns With mesmerizin’ turns. Their ginger hair a swirlin’, They sing of misty dreams, Of brilliant archin’ rainbows, Of gold that ever gleams.