Poems by Patricia Cisco

Ever since I can remember,
on the fourth Thursday of November,

long before the crack of dawn,
early on that frosty morn,

flurries and leaves in wispy winds,
as our mother's long day begins.

Placing pumpkins beside the front door,
setting the table for twenty or more.

Into her cozy kitchen she goes,
creating tradition as only she knows.

A muffled clanging in our heads
as we still slumber in our beds.

Then, as if by some magical spell,
spicy, sweet scents begin to dispel.

Aromas in the atmosphere rise,
waking our senses and opening our eyes.

Cinnamon, saffron, nutmeg, and sage.
Stuffing the turkey, she's setting the stage.

On the stovetop simmering away,
delicious side dishes are at play.

Deep dish apple and pumpkin pie
rest on the windowsill nearby.

Family and friends begin to arrive.
Some a bit tired from the drive.

Children running in and out.
Happy laughter all about.

The smell of turkey sweeping the air.
Thanksgiving time is finally here!

Out of the oven all golden brown,
her turkey is our table's crown!

Dad, with his big wide grin,
slices the turkey nice and thin.

Smiling with her dimples so sweet,
she knows Thanksgiving is complete.

Now we give thanks to the Lord above
for this bountiful blessing made with love.

Many Novembers have come and gone.
We try to carry her memories on,

but the one thing we can never replace
is mom's sweet smiling dimpled face.

Damp darkness befalls as gray fog settles in.
Frightening shadows lingering within.

Footsteps echo through the black, eerie night
With scrapings and rustlings, yet nothing in sight.

Misty clouds floating across the dull moon.
Heart stopping feelings of horror and doom.

Howling squeals pierce the smoggy air.
My heart pounding harder in panicky fear.

The faster and faster I try to race,
My shaky, weak legs won't keep up the pace.

A scary, awful blood-curdling scream.
I feel so faint, as if in a dream.

Ghostly eyes glowing in bushes distant,
Getting closer and closer in an instant.

Frozen stiff, I shut my eyes tight,
Holding my breath with all my might.

Then swishing past in the chilly breeze,
Opening one eye, I suddenly breathe.

Finally putting my fears at ease.
Oh, it's just Trick or Treaters on All Hallows' Eve!

Life is full of joy and sorrow,
past, present, and tomorrow.

Knowing life as I do now,
I still have questions of why and how.

I can't remember my very first cry;
will I have any memories after I die?

I'd like to believe we're all here for good reason,
and life upon earth is but for a season,

with hopes we long continue on
in a much better place after we've gone,

pondering how very sad it would be
if after I die there was nothing of me.

Even so much sadder than this
are those loved ones I love and a very last kiss!

I can't imagine how love ever dies
the last time that we close our eyes.

There's something deep inside my being
that promises much more than just our seeing!

To me there's only one conclusion.
Heaven is real; it's not a delusion.

Love must be the everlasting key
that transcends our souls to eternity.

Since our time on earth has been season to season,
why wouldn't God continue His reason?

This heavenly place must truly exist,
filled with souls we've deeply missed,

No more pain, tears, or sorrows.
Only loved-filled, joyful eternal tomorrows!

Winter's sleep so close to death,
piercing with his arctic breath.

Brittle, naked limbs stretch high
in the icy pewter sky.

Bitter chill and stinging wind,
quiet earth grows gray and grim.

Polar pillows full of snow
hover over valleys low.

Veils of frozen crystal falls,
cascade over mountain walls.

Squalls and drifts of sparkling white,
glistening brilliance in the night.

Winter, with his wicked wrath,
leaves blinding beauty in his path!

On one mystic, magic night,
Jack O Lanterns glowing bright,
kids with bags of candy sweet,
roam door to door and street to street,
all dressed up for trick or treat!

Wizards with wands, pirates with hooks,
monsters and clowns with spooky looks,

kings and queens with capes and crowns,
a princess in her royal gown,

witches with warts and fairies with wings
movies stars with sparkling rings,

vampires with fangs that bite,
ghost that boo all dressed in white.

Imaginations taken flight,
on that one mystic, magic night.

Oh, the fun of Halloween,
be young or old or in between!

From year to year he drifts alone.
His story only few have known.

About a boy who went to war,
and there he stayed forevermore.

His leathered skin and graying hair,
his tattered clothes and gazing stare,

standing tall, yet head so low,
he carries scars we'll never know.

So know that our freedom isn't free.
It came from heroes such as he!

Once upon a Christmas time, not very long ago,
was a loving family that lost all Christmas glow.
Tears of sadness filled the air; no more merriment or cheer.
Loss and grief of loved ones gone, so hard to bear and carry on,
but what this family couldn't know of miracles God would bestow.
God had a plan in Heaven above to send a baby girl to love.
then within the very next year, a baby boy; more joy to share!
Now there is a loving family that has found new Christmas joy.
Right beneath their Christmas tree, a baby girl and boy!
Two Christmas blessings from above,
from heaven with love!

Deep in this dark, cold, last night of December,
is one tiny flame of a flickering ember.

like so many memories of Decembers gone by,
tucked in our hearts, memories safely reside,

reminiscing our blessings through all the past years,
of those we have loved, our regrets, and our tears.

As December surrenders to January's dawn,
that one tiny ember still flickers on,

sparking the flame to new memories born
on the horizon of this New Year's morn!

With winter's footprints in the past,
and snows begin to melt at last.

With longer days and shorter nights,
the wayward winds of March take flight.

Four winds she holds within her grip,
then hurls them from her fingertip.

Her woolly, fleecy clouds of white,
she sets in skies of blue delight.

Her wild bouts of gusty breezes
roar through valleys, hills, and trees.

That high pitch whistling song she sings
awakens earth and flowering things.

She tears a hole in heaven's sky
so sun can shine and rain can cry.

She gently calms as spring draws near,
as blooming daffodils appear.

She welcomes April showers in,
then gathers up her dwindling winds.
Now her long journey home begins,

knowing she'll be back this way,
upon a cold, late winter's day,

when nights grow short
and days grow long.

Listen for her whistling song!