The StoryTeller

Beneath the tinsel’s glittered sheen,
Lies the weight of yuletide dreams,
Expectations, heavy it seems,
Like laden branches, evergreen.

In gift-wrapped parcels, hopes we tie,
Each ribbon a whispered sigh,
Anticipation soaring high,
Yet burdened by a wishful cry.

The pressure builds as the day draws near,
To fulfill the joy we hold so dear,
Wrapped in traditions, crystal clear,
Yet expectations cast a shadow, drear.

In the quest for perfect cheer,
The weight of expectation appears,
A heavy load, our joy veneer,
Yet simplicity, the heart holds dear.

So, let us lift this weight, release,
Embrace the moments, find our peace,
For in the essence of love’s increase,
Christmas finds its true release.

In lists of wishes, dreams unfurl
Each desire, a wrapped-up pearl
Material wants, like a swirling dance
In gift-wrapped boxes, we find romance
Yet tangled in wants, we take a chance
For joy resides in the heart’s own trance

The world wrapped in a festive glow
Beneath the tree, gifts in a row
Yet in the bounty, a truth is spun
That happiness transcends each one
In the warmth of love when the day is gone
The greatest gift, when all is said and done

So, let my wish this Christmas ring
Beyond the packages, the carols sing
For in the laughter, in bonds so strong
True joy, enduring, all year long
A wish for family, where we all belong
In love and peace, in hearts song

As the clock ticks its final refrain
A symphony of freedom begins
Unfettered by the workday’s chain
A dance of joy, as the clock grins
Around the cooler, camaraderie spins
The year concludes, a victory to claim

The hands align, a moment to savor
No more meetings, no more toil
Released from the day’s tight behavior
Around the water cooler, we gather and foil
In the ticking silence, we start to uncoil
A year’s burdens shed, like a well-worn flavor

The office echoes with a closing sound
The clocking out of the year’s grand story
Around the cooler, laughter resounds
A final glimpse of the mundane glory
As we step out into the evening’s inventory
The year’s clocking out, a jubilant surround

The power of hope
Ignites the soul, a flame now aglow,
The beacon in the darkest night,
It guides us through the ebb and flow,
A steadfast anchor, firm and tight,
In its embrace, we find our scope.

The strength of a single person
Resides within ourselves – such a potent force,
A reservoir of courage deep,
Against life’s storms, a steadfast course,
In every heart, a boundless source,
A strength that helps us all reconvene.

A whisper in the Wind
Echoes secrets of the universe,
Soft and subtle, yet profound,
It carries tales from diverse realms,
A symphony of voices, untwinned,
A cosmic message, tightly whirled.

Collective voices in the darkness
Merge as one, a harmonious call,
United against shadows’ might,
In unity, we stand upright,
Against the tides of silent starkness,
A chorus of resilience, standing tall.

A light in the abyss
Pierces through the shroud of despair,
Illuminating the path ahead,
A radiant glow, a hopeful kiss,
In the deepest depths, it’s rare,
Yet it kindles a flame, with no room left for dread.

In this garage the echoes of engines long fixed now persist,
A mechanic stands, hands adorned and grease-kissed,
Worn overalls, a lifetime spent deep in gears,
Retiring proud, as the end nears.

Tools laid down, a symphony of clinks,
Wrenches and ratchets, each memory links.
A life in oil, for an engine’s embrace,
Now stepping back, leaving a well-earned trace.

The workshop’s anthem, the hum of machines,
A soundtrack that fades as the retiree dreams.
A toolbox closed, a chapter complete,
In the quiet, the heartbeat of a bittersweet retreat.

No more the squeels of a stubborn car,
No more the scent of oil, near and far.
Retirement dawns, a horizon unknown,
Beyond the spanners, what seeds are sown?

A proud mechanic, with tales to tell,
Of engines revving, and parts that fell.
Yet, in the silence, a canvas unfolds,
A new chapter yet to be written, let the story talk mold.

In a quiet town where the gumtrees sway,
A solitary soul finds solace each day.
A homestead stands, weathered and worn,
A loneman’s abode, in solitude, reborn.

Living alone, In an old house that moans,
A freedom embraced, in the vast unknown.

In the city’s heart, neon lights ablaze,
A solitary figure, lost in the maze.
Cinema alone, in the city’s grandeur,
A silent spectator, a lone adventurer.

At the stadium’s roar, where the crowds unite,
A solitary fan, hidden in the sea of white.
Alone in the cheers, at the announcer’s tone,
A lone supporter, in the coliseum’s throne.

Yet, in the quiet moments, the silence unfurls,
A self-discovery, as the heart gently swirls.
Learning to love in the quiet of alone,
A journey inward, a soul fully known.