"Here on Christmas Day"

A Christmas song ... 

"Photographs in picture frames

Around memories of yesterdays.

Raise a glass to everyone

Whose footsteps are still on my heart,

Whose loved has kissed my soul,

Whose heart has held my own,

And though they’re gone,

I feel they are still here on Christmas Day.

Come with me and let me show you

This wonderful, magical Christmas Tree. 

Each toy is a memory; past, present and future,

Each light is a kiss; there’s even a spare!

Raise your glass high; both behind and forward

As we toast the past, and what’s yet to be.

Santa Claus holds us all safe in his arms,

As we over-indulge in this love that we share.

 

Stories that are yet to be

Written down in memories.

Let’s spare a thought for those yet to come;

Souls that my heart has yet to meet.

Gifts that will be share,

Food to be prepared,

And though they’re not yet here,

I feel their love here on Christmas Day.

Come with me and let me show you

This wonderful, magical Christmas Tree.

Each toy is a memory; past, present and future,

Each light is a kiss; there’s even a spare!

Raise your glass high; both behind and forward

As we toast the past, and what’s yet to be.

Santa Claus holds us all safe in his arms,

As we over-indulge in this love that we share ..."

(c) Sharon Cox 25.12.12

Beating at the Heart of Christmas ...

Once upon a time there was a lonely little Christmas Tree Toy.  She was a pretty little thing; a beautiful red heart, which had been made with lots of love and care.  But she was sad and lonely as she sat in a house all on her own …

She remembered the kind and happy old man who had made her.  He’d taken so much care when he carved her from the huge plank of wood from which she and her friends had come from.  She had no idea what had happened to all of her friends.  The last she remembered of them, they’d all been hanging together on a branch in a shop.  And then a lovely lady came along & gently looked at them all, before deciding to take away the beautiful red heart.

The beautiful red heart was happy and excited; she knew that she must be special.  She was the Christmas Tree Toy that the lovely lady had chosen.  And because she was such a lovely lady, the beautiful red heart felt safe in the knowledge that she would be going to a lovely warm home, to hang on a beautiful Christmas Tree and make lots of new friends with the Christmas Tree Toys already hanging there.  She was wrapped up nice and warm and safe in tissue paper so the lovely lady could take her home. 

But the beautiful red heart was disappointed when she got home with the lovely lady because she just put her to one side and left her there, and the beautiful red heart began to feel sad and lonely, wishing she was still with her friends in the Christmas shop.  She’d been told to expect such delights when someone came along to take her to their home … but the beautiful red heart thought she must have just been forgotten about, cast aside in her Christmas wrapping …

And then one day, the beautiful red heart heard happy voices and her heart rose as she felt herself being picked up by the lovely lady and being given to a gorgeous girl.  The gorgeous girl carefully opened the tissue paper in which the beautiful little red heart was nestled.

The beautiful red heart was feeling so happy and excited … what was about to happen to her?  The gorgeous girl took one look at the beautiful red heart and her face lit up with a huge smile and she said; “You are so beautiful.  You can have pride of place on my Christmas Tree this year!”

The beautiful red heart was so very happy to hear this.  She knew that at last, she was going to find her home on a beautiful Christmas Tree full of friends …

But wait.  No!!  The gorgeous girl is leaving and she’s left the beautiful red heart behind.  The beautiful red heart screams at the top of her voice; “Stop!  Wait for me!  You’ve forgotten me!”

But the gorgeous girl doesn’t hear her, and the beautiful red heart begins to cry as she realises she’s being left behind.

The gorgeous girl mustn’t want her after all.  She’s not going to spend her Christmas on a gorgeous Christmas Tree after all.  The lovely lady spots the beautiful red heart sitting on the side and carefully wraps her up in her tissue paper, and puts her to one side.

Back to being the lonely little Christmas Tree Toy without a Christmas Tree.

The lonely little Christmas Tree Toy spends a few days feeling sorry for herself, part wrapped up still in her tissue paper, wondering what fate has in store for her. 

And then one day, she looks around and notices the lovely lady with a box full of Christmas decorations.  She feels herself begin to get excited.  Might she have a Christmas Tree to hang on after all?

She watches the lovely lady take a Christmas Tree out of the box.  But this doesn’t seem right.  It’s black.  Aren’t Christmas Trees supposed to be green?  And aren’t they supposed to be big and bold?  This one is tiny.  The beautiful red heart can see just how tiny it is when she sees the lovely lady’s cat sat next to it.  The tree is no bigger than the cat!  There’s no room for the beautiful red heart and lots of friends to hang on there.  She watches the lovely lady put small, brightly coloured baubles and tinsel on the tree … but there’s no room for her.

The beautiful red heart’s excitement begins to fade as she realises, that this Christmas Tree isn’t for her. 

Back to being the lonely little Christmas Tree Toy without a Christmas Tree.

The lonely little Christmas Tree Toy snuggles back down inside her tissue paper, dreaming of Christmas Trees and all the friends she was going to meet there.  She thinks about all of her friends in the shop, all of the Christmas Tree Toys who were cut from the same plank of wood as she was.  Where are they all now?   “Are they still hanging in the shop?” she thinks.  “At least they’ll still have each other and won’t be all alone like me.” 

The lonely little Christmas Tree Toy spends a few more days feeling sad and sorry for herself.  And then one day, the lovely lady picks her up.

“I wonder where I’m going now?” the beautiful red heart thinks.  “I hope it’s somewhere nice.  But what if it’s not?  What if I’m just going to be thrown away?  A lonely little Christmas Tree Toy without a Christmas Tree to hang on, isn’t much good to any one.”

The beautiful red heart was taken outside and carried by the lovely lady to a different house.  And when she got there, she was surprised to see the gorgeous girl again.  And as the lovely lady handed the beautiful red heart to the gorgeous girl, the gorgeous girl looked so happy to see the beautiful red heart again that her loneliness was swept away forever.

The gorgeous girl took the beautiful red heart carefully out of her tissue paper, and, as the beautiful red heart’s excitement built and built, she carried her into a lovely warm living room and there, there was the Christmas Tree that the beautiful red heart had dreamt about.  She felt filled with such love and happiness that all of her sadness was washed away.

The gorgeous girl gently hung the beautiful red heart onto the Christmas Tree, and the beautiful red heart looked around her, she just knew that she was going to be very, very happy hanging here.  There were lots of new friends just waiting to be made and she just knew, that she was the heart beating at the centre of them all.

Love, friendship, good luck and happiness would beat throughout that Christmas Tree that year and through everyone who was lucky enough to see it … with it’s beautiful red heart beating … beating at the heart of Christmas …

I catch the songs that make the whole world sing ...

 Playing my guitar this morning, working on a couple of the songs I've written recently, I began thinking about the process of songwriting ... & how obscure it is; at least for me!

I can't consciously grab hold of what happens when I write a song.  I never write in a formulaic way. I don't think about music theory when I'm writing.  I don't think about what 'should' work or 'shouldn't' work.  I just allow the song to emerge ...

And that's the process for me.  I can't force a song to be written.  I can't just sit down and decide to write a song.  The song will only be written when the time's right for the song; that's just how it feels.  

Earlier in my life, I was a prolific songwriter.  Songs came easily to me.  They weren't all necessarily good ones, but some were!  What, for me, was important though, was that I could write songs.  I could express myself, my thoughts and feelings through music and lyrics; and that was a powerful outlet for me.  And then, somewhere along the way, I seemed to lose that ability.  Fortunately, for whatever reason (& I could hazard a guess as some of those reasons!), I seem to have broken through my writers' block and have written 3 new songs over the last few months, which gives me great pleasure.  

And yet, to go back to the songwriting process, I'm not sure what I do to write a song.  It's feels more like a process of me having to capture what emerges through my fingers on the guitar or piano, or through my mouth when lyrics & / or a tune begin to emerge, or even what I sometimes hear vaguely playing somewhere in my mind.  I'm not consciously creating the song ... it feels more like it emerges through me & I have to catch it!!

Which isn't always easy.  Sometimes, I can 'hear' that tune in my head, but I somehow can't quite get it out through my voice or instrument.  And that can be really frustrating!  But that moment when I do stumble across, or find, the right notes or chords is amazing!  Such a sense of achievement; 'Wow! that's it!'  It can make me smile or even laugh out loud, when the song is suddenly out there!  I feel a sense of pride at this piece of music that I've created, that's come from me ... & yet I still don't fully understand where it comes from!

Does that matter though?  The final creation is what matters ... the song; no matter where it comes from, or how it gets there ...

Christmas Wordplay ...

As someone who loves wordplay, and who is very aware of both how much, and how little, words can mean ... I just love these Christmas cards!

Every time I hear the carol, 'The Holly and the Ivy,' I'll think of this Holly and Ivy!

Bought in John Lewis, the cards are designed by Ernst Voller & the copyright of the image belongs to photolibrary.com  (who I hope doesn't mind me sharing it on here!?!)   (RNLI also receive a donation from the sale of these cards)

My Life In A Photo ...

Whilst I was writing a song on my piano and guitar yesterday ('Liberty' the previous entry on here), my cat, Elsie, jumped up onto the top of my bookcase to watch ... after she'd helpfully walked up and down the piano keys a few times!

I got my camera and took a photo of her sitting up on the bookcase watching me.  It's somewhere she's only been once before ... at least whilst I've been in to see her!!  As I took the photo, I realised that it included most of the important things in my life.  I moved my guitar to make sure it was clearly in the frame ... and there it was; my life.

My gorgeous god-daughter in the photo.

My cat on the bookcase.

My books, symbolising my love of reading, my PhD and my interest in all things relating to therapy and the human condition.

My guitar and piano showing my love of music ... playing them, writing songs, singing, and listening to music; both recorded and live.

My laptop, on its home on my little stool - another part of my PhD, it also symbolises my love of writing and researching online.  It houses my collection of photos of friends, family and important memories.  And of course, it's my link to friends and to this blog.

And last, but not least, my wine rack ... & enjoying a glass or two of wine ...

                                                                                 
                                                                                           Which photo of yours, illustrates your life?

Liberty ... a song for New York

Verse 1

Raindrops and stormy clouds,

Blowing through the skies.

Tears, fears, and broken dreams,

Caught in many eyes.

I watch Liberty cry for everyone,

Who’s felt her heart was their home.

And as she takes a look at what’s destroyed;

Things she could not control.

And it leaves her feeling like a lost and injured soul.

Verse 2

Waves crash and sweep ashore

All that’s in their way.

And washing up old memories

From a different yesterday.

I watch Liberty scan the skies,

And wonder what’s yet to come.

She listens to the fear that’s in her heart,

But it’s drowned out by hope.

Cos she knows that storm clouds always drift away.

Verse 3

Instrumental

I watch Liberty inhale the air,

Take it deep in her soul.

She looks to her flame to light the way

Along the steep road to home.

And she knows her heart will some day soon be whole.

(c)  Sharon Cox 4th November 2012

Might This Be Love?

Empty glasses on the nightstand tell a tale of illicit love.

A borrowed bed, a hotel room; drinking stolen wine.

But when I close my eyes, I still see his brown eyed smile,

And on my lips the ghost of his mouth kisses mine.

Oo-oo-oo; might this be love?

Words that were not spoken tell a story of their own.

A smile that held promises of love to come. magnetised my soul.

And then I found myself searching for a heart that I'd only glanced,

And I heard those silent words screaming, 'Please take this chance.'

  Because, oo-oo-oo; might this be love?

I can only guess that fate had plans for me.

Took me by the hand and led me, to where he would be.

Made me think;

Oo-oo-oo; might this be,

Oo-oo-oo; might this be,

Oo-oo-oo; might this be love?

(c)  Sharon Cox June 2012