Thursday, 25 December 2014



Sleepy eyes, and yawning now
My Christmas work is done..
Time to rest and dream awhile
To prepare for all the fun.
No children here to greet the dawn
Nor to scream with sheer delight
For they have stepped to adulthood
Just the two of us tonight…

A quieter time it is for sure
But that won't last for long
We'll gather all the Christmas gifts
And go to join the throng
Of family waiting to welcome us
With smiles and hugs and lovely wishes
Great thing about getting older
You get the fun, but not the dishes!

© Crissouli Dec 24 2014

Tuesday, 23 December 2014


A Christmas Gift

Just a little scrap of paper that blew upon the wind 
But it held the dates of Granpa's life
And simply can't be binned.
And there, upon the southern wall, my Granma's looking down
Maybe she's read the notes behind
And that's why she wears a frown!

There are many dusty photographs, a lot that are unnamed
Some have faded quite a bit, 
And some are nicely framed.
There are boxes there of letters, all dated and nicely tied
With ribbon that looks inviting
And with lots of facts inside.

Oh, and on the shelf just to the side, the family bible rests
It has names of many generations
And even some bequests.
Notebooks belonging to my Pa, in which he's written every day
Chronicle his many moves 
And what his family had to say.

Of course, this is all a fantasy, a dream, a fervent wish
It's what I'd like for Christmas
I wish, I truly wish!!!

© Crissouli 2007

Sunday, 21 December 2014


original (c) The Guardian


Two little faces pressed against the window pane
Eyes so wide, hopes so high, for all that they could see
Their weary mother, misty eyed, quietly sighed, again.

She hugged the children gently and bade them hold her hand
They slowly walked beside her, lost in a world of dreams
No words at all were spoken, they were too young to understand.

Their Daddy wasn't coming home, he was too far away
But a mother's love and hope would give her strength
To make them smile on this lonely Christmas Day.

Warm baths and lots of cuddles, then the children were in bed
She carefully wrapped two little gifts and wiped away a tear
At least they were together and she knew they would be fed.

Little rest for her that evening and soon the day did dawn
The children came to hug her, rubbing weary eyes
Then yelled with great excitement as they looked out at the lawn.

A bright and shiny cubby house was there for all to see
There was laughter as they ran out outside, their mother was amazed
In the middle of the garden was a sign "From you and me".

It was then that they all saw him, their Daddy had come back
He'd somehow found a job again and saved so very hard
And a mate with ute had helped him bring the cubby down the track.

The family was complete again, for he was home to stay
The little tree did look so different, the stars were shiny bright
The house was full of hope once more on this special Christmas Day.

(c) Crissouli Dec 2014

Monday, 8 December 2014


Image Credit: Unknown


How can you miss what you have yet to know...
How can you long for the fields of green
or the mists that spray upon the Cliffs of Moher..
Do you long for the majesty of the River Shannon
that wends it's way to the might
and sometimes fury, of the North Atlantic?

Not even the years of famine that wrenched at the very heart of Clare
could break the bonds that tie the people to the land.
So many left in wooden ships to build a life anew
knowing not what lay ahead
but longing for all they left behind.

From these broken hearts, came determination..
and courage and persistence.
The Irish spirit survived, as did the very essence of Clare
and back they came - to the land of their forefathers
to revitalise and build again.

The heart of Clare remains within the heart of all who long for her
those who returned, those who visit to walk the paths of their ancestors
those who cry out to know from whence they came.
As the mists of Clare roll over the Burren
so do the heart connections waft through the mists of time.

© Crissouli 2013