In the Bleak Midwinter

The title of a timeless carol describes this time of year (every year);
National Pasttime Punishment Pastdue

The reason for this troubling rhyme
is what takes place each Christmastime.
It’s eerie. No, it’s tragic.
Every year there’s something bad.

By Googling you soon will see
December breeds grave tragedies.
Joy to the World is what we sing,
but what we read is sad.

The headlines document our plight.
It’s rare that there’s a silent night.
The sound of gunshots can be heard.
There’re sirens, weeping too.

And Old Man Winter’s rarely nice.
His blizzards, floods and storms of ice
result in homelessness and death.
White Christmases turn blue.

In bleak December, airplanes crash,
tsunamis kill and dreams are dashed
by random acts of violence,
depression, suicide.

And when you look at years gone by,
you’ll be amazed. You’ll want to cry.
In spite of what Christ’s birth assures,
we grieve each Christmastide.

National Pasttime Punishment Pastdue

The diamond is tarnished.
Its glitter is gone.
The list of the guilty
is longer than long.

Spring Training’s in trouble
(and Opening Day).
Bud Selig’s determined
the bad boys won’t play.

But Selig’s announcement
is long overdue.
He’d best hit the showers.
I think Bud is through.