Little Ollie, so bubbly and bright
Eyes sparkling the summer light
running around with your tail so high
leaping through the air to catch a fly
and bouncing onto the garden chairs
to watch Jasper sleep beneath the stairs.
All you want to do is yap and play
although your tongue hangs out this hot day.
Little Ollie, as pure as the snow
here i am, and walking we will go.
Sunset
Painted canvas
a brush of red and blue
a weary city goes to sleep
Good Night
The Sandman comes home
Darkness cloaks the girl watching
Birds chase the sunset
Escaping a tired world
Tomorrow will start again
Understudied souls
Of a mortals universe
Hidden by rose eyes
The black cat yawns and smiles truth
Veiled in a fairytale.
Possibility
Through the sky a frog leaps out
Across a cascade
Words trickle into the sea
then rise up to the heavens
Fingers dance on keys
Letters burn porcelain skin
Like hopping hot potatoes
Summer cooks short poets
The battle of tanka’s, stop.
The sky cries white tears
Skadi umbrellas the land
The forest freezes
Time will melt away her scars
Idun’s song is whispering.
Light falls behind clouds
A daughter hugs her mother
Spring will come again.
We got the word on Christmas morn,
And they told us you were gone.
Asleep, at peace, with the angels
The Silent Night, your Swan Song.
So, rest your weary head, dear uncle
your work on earth is complete.
“God is good”, you used to tell us
Now you’re sitting at his feet.
Sitting in the kitchen corner
With your cigarette and smiles.
“Oh, My” and “Exaa-ctly”
we would laugh with you awhile.
I’ll remember your red jumper
And the coat that was too big.
I’ll remember your brilliant mind,
And playful mischief with us kids.
I remember the last gift you gave
Was a box of “Indian Sweets”
We all gasped, and gave you “the look”
But were grateful for the treat.
Rest easy now, dearest uncle
Your light shines on us from above
No words can describe our sadness
Always and forever, sending our love.
Little red hats, singlets and shorts
Walking in thongs along the port.
Standing together in candlelight
Caroling with friends into the night.
Raising a glass and spreading cheer
Fingers cling to ice cold beers.
Shrimp skewers sizzle on the grill
Accompanied by sautéed krill.
Southern climes can be a lot to bear
When gathering for an English fare.
Hot roast turkey with all the trimmings
Some veg but lots of stuffing.
Feeling the heat inside and out
That’s what our Christmas is all about.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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