Christmas Over The Years ~ The Struggle I Had

(Alias…My Ode To Single Moms) around 1987

I wish people would buy me hand lotion, toothpaste, and toilet paper

Dish detergent, Kleenex and soap, all the things that I have to go without

Because I bought them presents.

One time I made homemade sanitary napkins out of free cotton batten

I saved it out of the tops of medicine bottles and vitamin jars

I rolled it flat in paper towels and stapled the edges so that the

Sharp parts were away from my body.

I didn’t go out of my apartment for a week.

That was just after Christmas.

When I see a pretty girl prancing down the street at Christmas time

With her arms full of packages and tremendous smiles on her face

I wonder what it would feel like not to have to go

To Salvation Army for a dried up ham and pie-fill that has gone bad in the can.

Once I felt happy when I was sitting in church

And my Dad walked down the centre isle dressed

As one of the Three Wise Men

And I thought then that I would grow up to be happy

I thought people were normal and good and sensible

Like he was, but then I grew up…? and got married.

Then I was a single Mom trying to make Christmas good

For my kids, and I could only get the plain Snuffleuppe-Gus

Not the one that talked and I broke my daughter’s heart.

She never knew that mine had been broken for a long, long time.

My son just hurt quietly inside and never let me know

That he wanted to be somewhere else, but in retrospect

I could sure see why.

Christmas is not my favourite time of year.

My reality from an unhappy chapter, cailin raine

Valentine Hearts

Forever hearts wrapped in Valentine paper
Clumsy attempts at love ~ we were so young
Then… hearts joined with white organdy and flimsy lace
Red roses to represent the true love we shared.

Years later, hearts still together ~ but a little weary
Around the edges, blurred a bit by time
But holding hands.

Now a few gray hairs, but worn hearts still joined
In gratitude for all the years spent as one
And we are not so far from the young lovers
Of yesterday.

Tomorrow
One heart may have to go and one might stay
But still they will be joined by some unfathomable Force
Still wrapped in Valentine paper… which has grown
So very strong.

One heart will leave for a time… then the other will follow
Reach for me across the veil, as you lifted the veil years ago
And I will be there with you.

cailin raine

read on CKNX radio in 1998

Chance, Timing and Regret

What measurement of time had cascaded to a tiny dot of coincidence?

Imagine the two of us plucked from the amused cosmic dance

To meet at the same second at the same intersection,

Criss-crossed like the lovers we were.  Just when I think the link

Has been forever severed, I find a pull still there.

I am shocked and yet not astonished…although my inner workings

Shudder…for I find both of us waiting, waiting at the red stop light.

Both of us comically waiting for the green that will melt the pregnant pause

Into activity, normalcy, the flow of comforting traffic so we can forget.

In those split seconds of thought I am aware of the peculiar sense

Of time standing still and the wait is forever and more.

I know it is the same for you, I feel it in marrow and blood,

You are perched on a line just beyond my reach, and I yours.

Then the light changes and the static scene melts into blur.

I drive and you drive and I know I must act in some normalcy

That I do not feel, but my wave is nonchalant, even perky. Then…

The huge surprise is that you actually look at me, and there is

A final hint of something finally acknowledged in the line

Of your mouth, the tilt of your head, you are fiddling unnecessarily

With something on the seat, you still know how to hide from me.

My understanding is instinctive, and all these thoughts are poured

Into split seconds where I know they cannot live or stay. With a

Queer sense of unreality, I see your face is aged, your hair is grey.

I wonder if I did this to you, but then I remember you did it to yourself.

A tangible sadness slides in the silver cord that still pulls our hearts,

Because after all, for years I took your body in mine and loved you.

Your face showed me regret, slight shame, wistfulness and even humility.

You are a different person now and yet the same, I am a different person now

And yet it is the same heart that loved you, I have the same hands that touched you.

It still seems like unreality that we have other lives to live now, not the one we had

Together. You used that word a lot, and yet we never seemed to have it.

I resurfaced, somewhere far down the street; I felt like I had done a Houdini feat.

The over-ness is more profound now, and yet a connection remains.

I wonder how many red lights I have to get through before I am truly free.

Your once upon a time lover,

cailin raine

One Golden Couple

Written for my sister and brother-in-law for their 50^th wedding anniversary May 11^th, 2013

It was 50 years ago today

When Carol and Ron were wed

The little church was filled with love

As the wedding vows were said.

Destiny declared it!

That they would become one

Spend fifty years together

Shining like the sun!

God bestowed his blessings on

This couple sweet and true

Three precious children joined them

And their loyalty just grew.

Tonight we are here with them

To celebrate with pride

Their Golden Anniversary

As they stand side by side.

Let’s raise our glasses one by one

And give them one big cheer

Wish them more joy and happiness

So let’s all shout! Here, Here!!

Happy 50^th Anniversary Carol and Ron!!  With love and admiration  J

Cailin raine

Ode To My Sister-In-Law

I’d only seen a decade when into our family you came

And I had another sister then, and things were not the same

For your cheerful smile added so much, a friendly way to see

And you made me feel like I mattered, a better way to be!

As the “baby” I felt unseen, but you never left me out

When others interrupted me, I’d shy away and pout

I couldn’t help but notice that you always stopped to hear

Your kind eyes would help to heal my wounds, I knew that I was dear.

You noticed things the others didn’t, you laughed at silly jokes

Days we spent cross-country skiing were envied by other folks

I always felt so welcomed when I’d come again to your door

I’d enjoy your hospitality and your shining, spotless floor!

I miss those days in the valley when life did not seem so rushed

And maybe one day I will again feel that peace when all is hushed

A better way to live lies beneath the craggy “Old Baldy” heights

Or perched high on the Bruce Trail, looking down at Kimberley lights.

Hiking in the forest on Bud’s Trail always brought a smile

You were fun and bubbly and always ready for that extra mile

Apple-picking in the Apple Baron’s orchard was a comical delight

And somehow just your being there, made everything turn out right!

I’ve been so blessed with siblings who are decent, clean and nice

Our Lord knew what he was doing when He threw His special dice

I got the luck of the draw when Glenn chose you for his sweet wife

Dear Carol, I‘m so very thankful to have you in my life.

love always,

cailin raine

Camilla

An Ode To Jessica Tandy

(written after watching the movie "Camilla"1995)

'Tis twain I've passed your way and learned an older wisdom

Immense treasure of seasoned mind and soul

Extraordinary woman more beautiful now with age.

She would have bathed in oils!

She would have come dressed in a silken robe!

He would have waited for her in the bed,

Smoking black cigarettes from Bohemia.

She would have stood at the foot of the bed

He would have stared!

…puffing on his black cigarette from Bohemia.

He never really smoked!

Turn down the lamp to crawl naked into bed

And openly caress small breasts with nipples translucent and light

He would have left the lamp on, he wanted to look at her!

The lamp stays on so that we might see.

We go back to before

We all go back to before

And know that we should have come

Ah!  We should have come!

I go back to before

And walk merrily down a gravel, country road

With Mexican hat perched on my head in jaunty, flirting manner

And I take the hand of the love-stricken boy

And I never, ever let go.

 "She goes down to the seas again

To the vagrant Gypsy life

To the gull's way and the whale's way

And the wind's like a whetted knife

And all we ask is a merry yarn

From a laughing fellow rover

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream

When the long trick's over"

   (quote from the movie, “Camilla”)

For life is but a trick

And we are here on stage

To play our part and learn our lines…

Grow more talented with age!

And age is the best gift

For with time we master all

And in the last closing scene

We're the fairest at the ball!

So dance Camilla in the clouds!

And wear your silken robe

Feel golden with your pretty breasts

And play your violin old

For age is where most beauty is

And where we all must stray…

 Finally the last chord is struck

In Wisdom's arms we stay.

cailin raine

Blood-Story in The Snow

Near the mouth of the den at the end of acres

Fur-scattered rug of snow

Doored the entrance to the blood-stinking lair

The kill had been plain.

Snowshoes stopped in tandem, our breath hot on the air

They were still there… spirit-sneaking about us with their

Hot-kill energy, sparking crystal-lights of fire

In the fine, blood-misted snow.

We read the story, …slowly tracking the deep-dots of

Prints struck hard against the ice

Deep-melted in the dark-rooted soil

Marks of shiny-struggle and the deer’s last day.

She slowly going down like the final sun

Loathe to give up her last beating-breath

Heart in her mouth, eyes shedding fear

Other eyes lacing hers from across the creek

Glitter of life within, tenderly walking towards her closing cry.

 The pack had taken her in bits and in pieces, yipping and yowling

A bone-chilling-kill in the soft-falling night, dusk-settling

Daring to pierce her flesh, rip her sweet, mottled hide

Red-blood drip-spotting first the blaring whiteness of snow

Misting the glitter-prints of coyote paw, desperate heaving- hoofs

Patterning the killing-field with her last effort to cling

Where life had given dawn, and frolic, and saucy dance.

The going down was long… her struggle brave and valiant

She did not give her life freely, but death was her gift in the end.

  

The slayers slumber with shiny, blood-glistened tongues

Hot blood-breath against the darkness now deep and black

The pack lies silent in succulence, bellies full

Beside the carcass left alone in bone-brittle defiance

She passed on to a better dream, whole and full and finished.

Killers seamed in survival-flesh beneath blood-smeared fur

Living inside the wolf-wisdom of ancestors lurking in the past

Cunning and clever, each pup full-tummied against fertile female

Alpha-dreams dance in the hot-bellied den, dawn seeking another day.

cailin raine

The "Bestest" Christmas

It would be the “bestest” Christmas if for just one Christmas Day

All the kids were coming home and overnight to stay

The big tree in the parlour would be decked in red and green

And little faces peering out from its bottom could be seen.

The big ones round a roaring fire could be heard telling stories

To the little ones who listened rapt to snowmen, elves, and fairies

We all could string popcorn on the big, old-fashioned tree

And the smaller ones would gather all the candy canes with glee.

I, dressed in my apron, would be stirring gravy brown

And friends would drop in briefly for a visit from the town

We’d serve them rum and eggnog and then go on the sleigh

And they’d leave us with a friendly wave on this special Christmas day.

The children wrapped in coats and scarves and mitts and mufflers too

Would never feel the cold as o’er the icy roads we flew

The horses both would stamp their feet to keep the cold at bay

And trundle back into the barn for corn, barley and sweet hay.

Then in the big house we would sit together for a prayer

And thank the Lord for all the festive food that we had there

For the wooden table would groan with the weight of the turkey platter

And tummies would be bursting when we’d all feel a little fatter.

Some would snooze then later as we sat with apple cider, still

And listen to the music with which the house would fill

We’d watch one little grand child sit to play a soft, sweet “Silent Night”

And I would sit content with all heads near and feel joy at the sight.

Oh, for just one such old-fashioned Christmas, my heart does burn and swell

And if I ever live to see the like of it, I’ll tell

The world about my story of the “bestest” Christmas yet

For dear hearts I ask you now, what better present could I get?

cailin raine

Come Home It's Supper Time

I wish that my mother could have lived to see the publication of my poetry.  I think she would have liked that.  She was called home to rest in the joy of the Lord in heaven and we know she is not alone.  I remember playing outside as darkness fell and suppertime drew near.  Mom was a good cook and the tantalizing aromas of roast beef and gravy and apple pie brought gladness to my little heart.  She was a good Mom.  I thank the Lord for parents who taught me right from wrong.

            This piece of poetry is not one of mine, but it is something I might have written and speaks very closely to my heart.  It expresses just the way I feel about going home to heaven at the end of "day" when our life is finally complete and the Lord calls us Home.  I can imagine the day when our Mom and Dad draw near to help us find the light, and they guide us with the Love of the Lord to find our way along the tunnel towards the Peace that passes all earthly understanding.  Just like Mom calling us in for supper.

Supper Time

Many years ago in days of childhood I used to play

'Til evening shadows come,

Then winding down an old familiar pathway I heard

My mother call at set of sun.

Come home, come home it's supper time,

The shadows lengthen fast;

Come home, come home it's supper time;

We're going home at last.

One day beside her bedside I was kneeling,

And angel wings were winnowing the air;

She heard the call for Supper Time in heaven,

And now I know she's waiting for me there.

Come home, come home it's supper time,

The shadows lengthen fast;

Come home, come home it's supper time;

We're going home at last.

In visions now I see her standing yonder,

And her familiar voice I hear once more;

The banquet table's ready up in heaven,

It's supper time upon the golden shore.

Come home, come home it's supper time,

The shadows lengthen fast;

Come home, come home it's supper time,

We're going home at last.

(Copyright 1950 by Singspiration, Inc.)

Angels Holding Hands

I look across my pillow and see angels holding hands!

Their wings are interlocking and their light shines down in bands;

Their faces smile and joined as such they form a lovely circle,

And I supported in their arms enjoy them in the middle.

I feel so very cherished to be at their holy centre,

And vow to live my life renewed and do a whole lot better.

I know that I have slipped and fell, been lifted up on wings,

And when my heart is heavy, my angel stoops and sings.

The music then is sweet and pure and rings within my ear…

I no longer have the weight of this world's strife to fear.

For my angel's voice is mighty, yet soothing, full of light,

He sings of love and happiness, of all things good and right.

He sings until my heart is full of purity and love,

And I can face the world again and remember Him above.

The road is long and many times I've wanted to give up.

But angels come and minister, they stay with me and sup.

We drink until my body rests, my soul again set free,

And I can soar above the clouds with angels helping me!

I rest upon their lovely wings, nestled in downy white,

And when I must, come back to earth and try to do what's right.

Every now and then I know I'll see them at my bed,

And know they've come again to wipe away my fear and dread.

I bathe in His own glory as their light shines down in bands,

When I look across my pillow and see angels holding hands.

cailin raine

There Is A Place

On another plane there is a place where I sometimes go

I think we converge there in symmetry

At a vortex in time where it is easy to connect

We float suspended in a cosmic ether

Of love particles,  sensibility, and sustenance

To discuss in clarity and understanding

Our growth.

 How many times have you awakened and felt

You had been on a journey and had seen

An old friend

But your body had never left your bed?

An ethereal caress remains…

Something of another’s touch left in your soul

A nameless quality of change that is welcome

Familiar and new all at the same time.

Rebirth happens all about us

Each morning as the sun peeks its smile just above the horizon,

Watch the ascending glow light up the sky with warmth

Reaching and touching and extending itself in love

Calling out a good morning!… its a new day!

Branches and leaves pull towards her,

Opening in new growth and embracing the fresh air.

We too can choose the new dawn

And write freshly upon the slate

Wiped clean by the dew of the night

Choose your letters carefully for they will spell out your day

Then walk gladly on this new page of your life.

cailin raine

Poetry Of Art

A man of God writes with understanding unordinary

The ink of ideas is etched in his beloved head

We know that he is chosen by his words and his

Extraordinary love.

God created women after men because a man is so in need of

Love

And yet he cannot see

That by loving her with his whole mind and soul

He can be truly free.

Art speaks to us with burning fire in his mind

Woman is a treasure to be enjoyed

Oh, what a treasure of mysteries!

What a treasure of delight…

Beauty, brains, power and wonder

As she comes to her man in the night!

God knew his need and so made his helpmate

His equal

Created from his side ~ near his heart

Where she was so easy to cherish, so easy to hold

But man has forgotten and has gone another way

Where the road is rocky and the path is murky.

God wants to show him

That he looks into a muddy mirror

And only through His sacred word

Does the picture become clear ~ a joy to behold.

 cailin raine

Written for an extraordinary penpal, Art, in 1994

A man I never met, but his penmanship told its very own story….

My Beaver Valley Place

As the applewood fire glows on the golden, shimmering wall

I think of crimson colours in the Beaver Valley fall

I dream of autumn sunsets on top ‘the escarpment face

And have come to now acknowledge that there is no better place!

For this is where my childish heart first learned to love the woods

And the Beaver Valley River held my soul like no one could

Still I feel the pull of God as I walk upon this land

And His rainbow glows about Him as He reaches out His Hand!

It was after Mom had passed that the double rainbow came

And my Dad and I stood, watched it, and it called out our names

It was in my heart I heard her voice, ‘twas softly that she said,

“ It will be no time at all until you’re here with me again! ”

The valley hills then echoed with a silence most profound

And I turned to touch the blanket on the line and there I found

That the pattern made a picture, in its centre was her face

And I wept for the magic in that sacred valley place.

Later in the graveyard, a crimson rose from her I found

Near my car door as I opened it, to leave, homeward bound

The rose was satin on my cheek; I turned the radio on

Conway Twitty sang “The Rose” as on my cheeks the tears rolled down.

Then later still, ‘twas in the graveyard when my Dad had gone on too

That the black and white butterfly around my face gently flew

She matched my dress so perfectly and it seemed like a goodbye

And silently I thanked it, wiped the last tear from my eye.

It’s in the apple fire that these images still live

And every time I think of them, my thankfulness I give

I look into the fire, as I smell the apple flame

And remember all the beauty when the double rainbow came.

Now, it’s in my dreams, that in Beaver Valley I still roam

For now and forever, it will always be my home!

I write my soul on paper for my progeny to keep;

It’s in the Beaver Valley that my bones one day will sleep. 

                                                                                                                                                 cailin raine