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December is a troubadour singing in celebration

of vanillla-ice skies

snow-cone hills

frost-sculptured window pane

of crackling fire

steaming hot chocolate lamp-lit reading chair

of children laughing,

dragging homeward pine tree

decking it with kindergarten art

candy canes, and flashing lights

hanging hope in a stocking

saying prayers before bed

singing in jubilation as angels

join the song on high

Wilma Gundy

Photo Lloyd Gundy


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Gail Reynolds
Gail Reynolds
Nov 30, 2023

I figured out how to comment 🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️🤸🏿‍♀️!!

Liked your “December” poem. One of the challenges of moving to Southern California has been capturing the spirit of Christmas when so many of the visuals that you associate with that season are missing. Where is the snow?? the sleigh? the sound of sleigh bells? the ice skating? the skiing? hot chocolate? I started my traditional Christmas poem last year, but the spirit deserted me. I’m hoping to make a comeback this year. Gail


Lew Gundy
Lew Gundy
Nov 29, 2023

I forgot about the huge evergreen tree that used to be in Louge's front yard.Do you remember the year dad took this picture? Was it after the blizzard of 86? The huge tree's in the back yard. WOW!

Wilma Gundy
Wilma Gundy
Dec 02, 2023
Replying to

Photos do not include date! Maybe in one of my albums we can find it.


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