The Lost Spirit – a Christmas poem by my mother, Clara Treat

Meaning of Christmas

The Lost Spirit

I searched for the spirit of Christmas

In a silent, white starlit night,

And then on the city sidewalks

With store windows gay and bright.

I visited Toyland and found there

Happiness and real joy,

In the picture of children with Santa

As he promised each one a toy.

Then I took my babes to the manger

To wish the Christ Child well,

And there by the candle-lit crib

I captured the magic spell.

In the eyes of my own little children

The spirit of Christmas shone,

With love for the child who lay there

He was truly one of their own.

Author’s note:

Our home was the gathering place for our friends and relatives on Christmas Eve.  We exchanged gifts and enjoyed a great buffet luncheon.  With all the work of decorating and cooking and the kids getting restless, I’d lost my Christmas spirit.  I gathered my brood together and headed for the manger in our church.  It was there that I captured the lost spirit that inspired me to write this poem.

~ Clara Treat

Download Clara’s book “Heartland Verses” free at:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/54111

Use coupon code  UD26F at checkout to get it free – until 01/15/15

The Lost Spirit – a Christmas poem by Clara Treat

Meaning of Christmas

The Lost Spirit

I searched for the spirit of Christmas

In a silent, white starlit night,

And then on the city sidewalks

With store windows gay and bright.

I visited Toyland and found there

Happiness and real joy,

In the picture of children with Santa

As he promised each one a toy.

Then I took my babes to the manger

To wish the Christ Child well,

And there by the candle-lit crib

I captured the magic spell.

In the eyes of my own little children

The spirit of Christmas shone,

With love for the child who lay there

He was truly one of their own.

Author’s note:

Our home was the gathering place for our friends and relatives on Christmas Eve.  We exchanged gifts and enjoyed a great buffet luncheon.  With all the work of decorating and cooking and the kids getting restless, I’d lost my Christmas spirit.  I gathered my brood together and headed for the manger in our church.  It was there that I captured the lost spirit that inspired me to write this poem.

~ Clara Treat

Download Clara’s book “Heartland Verses” free at:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/54111

Use coupon code  RW69S at checkout to get it free – until 01/07/14

The Lost Spirit – a Christmas poem by Clara Treat

Meaning of Christmas

The Lost Spirit

I searched for the spirit of Christmas

In a silent, white starlit night,

And then on the city sidewalks

With store windows gay and bright.

I visited Toyland and found there

Happiness and real joy,

In the picture of children with Santa

As he promised each one a toy.

Then I took my babes to the manger

To wish the Christ Child well,

And there by the candle-lit crib

I captured the magic spell.

In the eyes of my own little children

The spirit of Christmas shone,

With love for the child who lay there

He was truly one of their own.

Author’s note:

Our home was the gathering place for our friends and relatives on Christmas Eve.  We exchanged gifts and enjoyed a great buffet luncheon.  With all the work of decorating and cooking and the kids getting restless, I’d lost my Christmas spirit.  I gathered my brood together and headed for the manger in our church.  It was there that I captured the lost spirit that inspired me to write this poem.

~ Clara Treat

Download Clara’s book “Heartland Verses” free at:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/54111

Use coupon code  YV28T at checkout to get it free – until December 31, 2012.

The Witness – What Never Changes

What Never Changes

What Never Changes

“The Witness”

What never changes…
 
I am

Born of stillness

Without thought or judgment

Awaiting definition in a world of objects

Name, profession, family, community

Desires arise, coupled with suffering

When will it end?

The wheel turns

A mud fight rages, but the mirror is clean

Wisdom arrives in a flash of Grace

Desires abate, simplicity sought

Surrender, reflect, and go within

Return to stillness

I am

***

Visit the author’s website:

http://www.jeannetreat.com

Easter week poem – Pieta

Clara Treat

Clara Treat, author

A poem written by my late mother, Clara Treat. 

 

Pieta

 

How your mother’s heart must have bled

On that cold cruel dawn

When they brought your poor son’s body to you –

All bruised and bloody and torn.

 

And how your mother’s heart must have ached

When you looked upon his dear face,

Knowing full well, how willingly,

He died to redeem this race.

 

And yet your thoughts must have backwards flown,

To the days when he was but a babe,

When you cradled and comforted each tiny hurt

And treasured each small step he made.

 

Dear Mother, our hearts must go out to you

On this the darkest of days,

When you thought that all of the joy you knew,

Would be quiet … and still …for always.

 

Clara Treat is the author of “Heartland Verses”, a short book containing her poetry, short stories, and memoirs as a WWII Rosie-the-Riveter.  You can find the book on Amazon.com in paperback and in many popular eBook formats.

Also available from Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=jeanne+treat