Dec. 11 - Small Voices
Poetry Advent Calendar
I remember, in grade one, my teacher had us sing Frère Jacques - the Matt Maxwell rock and roll version. Complete with giant cut out cardboard bells, we rocked across the stage. As a teacher, I have both led my classes and others in song and watched so many of my colleagues and their students take the stage. There is always something sweet about seeing the youngest members of our communities take the stage.
*** December 11th ***
Small Voices
Along the stage come all the little children
Standing in two rows, looking to their teacher, they break into song
Singing Frère Jacques, waving cardboard bells, behind which a child is hidden
When they hit the refrain and the kids start to dance
The parents taking pictures, appreciate the moment that has been given
The second song begins, angelic and sweet, Silent Night
Song carries out across the audience, and the gymnasium does brighten
The children, smiling, dancing, looking for parents, prepared all month long
The peal of clapping fills the air, the children look around, unsure, but genuine.
*** Poetry in Magic 9 Form ***
About the Creator
Christina Barber
Vancouver, Canada
@lille_sol
@canuckreader
Publications:
“Alone in an Empty Room” https://www.thecreativezine.org/issue1
Keep reading
More stories from Christina Barber and writers in Poets and other communities.
Dec. 10 - A Visit with Santa
One of my fondest memories is of going to Sherway Gardens to visit with Santa and have my picture taken. Each year, my grandmother would dress me up and take me to the mall. We would wander and look at the decorations and find the winter village, always distinct and magical. You could see the line-up from far away. The decorations and cutouts, the little, playful scenes that lined the way as you waited (im)patiently to sit on Santa's knee and whisper in his ear, were welcome and entertaining. And, finally, when it was your turn, you jumped up on the staging area and had your turn. I can't remember what I wished for, but I certainly remember those moments and savour them.
By Christina Barber2 years ago in Poets
A Few Moments More
You’ll give it one more minute, and then you’re headed back inside. It’s pretty chilly out, after all. Not that that’s a real issue - you’ve stood out here for longer, and in colder weather. The snow is nearly gone already; tiny, dirt-stained islands of the stuff form a shrinking archipelago dotting the sea of green that is your backyard. Striations of sunlight dance through the trees at the edge of the woods and paint the scene in a camouflage of brown, green, and gold.
By Gabriel Huizenga5 days ago in Fiction
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