Frederick plays piano today

you went out never to return
and the piano is still waiting for you
my violin with a torn heart
fondly stuck to the lid
and these notes of Chopin are ready
to begin our concert for two hearts

roses in crystal vase
you remembered that I like them red

dusk creeping softly outside the window
passing by the street lanterns
tea is made for two

you are not here

Christmas again is knocking on the door
how am I to sit at the table by myself
wafer and tears on a my plate
and Frederick plays piano today


waiting for the first star

another Christmas is knocking on the door
the tree is no longer as stylish
several unsent Christmas cards
barely begun letter
those who will not sit at the table any more
look out from picture frames
tears are shining in the candlelight
inside the heart joy mixes with sadness
carol rocks memories
white wafer waits to be broken
the first star will twinkle in the sky soon
but there are ever more empty chairs around the table

corrections  Chris Reynolds

Christmas Time

children’s voices sound like the bells at the sleigh
time already come to decorate proud Christmas tree
boxes full of decorations, brought uncle Adam
and he will be certainly helping kids with it

Anna and Suzanne, George and Walter
with a great curiosity, opened all boxes, which are
full of the wonders, tinsel decorations,
ballerinas and beautiful wooden horses

Christmas tree is already standing straight and proud
so fragrant ,green, spreading wings around
kids hang the ornaments where they could reach for
and so much fun they have with it

there is only lights and chain waiting to put on
so proud of their work children laughing loud
from the top of the Christmas tree looks a little Angel
a dog and a cat quietly watching it from under the table

now all is left is to wait patiently to see
what Santa Claus will put for the children under the tree
fulfill the dreams of those who were well-behaved
or cane he gives to those, who were did not behave so well

we’ll see soon


beautiful spruce at neighbour’s window
proudly fostered by hundreds of lanterns
that say the family will arrive in droves
while worrying whether
there will be enough space for them

here it is so quiet, so quiet
I read the yellowed letters
pages covered with the patina of time

turkey is lazily walking in the garden
asking for survival

children are looking from frames on the walls
so small and joyful

trembling hands

clinging memories to the heart

wafer is crying on the plate


Empty chair by the Christmas table.
Thousands of glittering flames
Dance on colorful ornaments.
The whole world trembles, it slowly rocks.
Green spruce smells like the woods.

Like Ariadne, I weave
Angel hair into memories and silence.
I return to happy hours,
To events that are now but dreams.
I listen to every murmur, rustle.
It seems, that at last I will hear
Familiar footsteps on the other side of the door