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Hello!
Happy New Year! I’m sharing my OLW for 2026 here.
Find my poetry journey continuing on substack at:
Here is the link if the embedded link above doesn’t work: https://open.substack.com/pub/mitchellhubeimom/p/happy-new-year?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web
Thank you, Catherine at Reading to the Core for hosting a New Year Poetry Friday Round-up.
Hello, hello, hello!
I am wishing you and yours a day full of love and laughter, peace and contentment. The woes of the world will certainly rush back in full tomorrow. But, today? It's Christmas.
I am celebrating the birth of a savior born to us humbly but with miraculously expansive love for us all. And, I'm fortunate to be with all my children, goofy-lovey pets and, my sweet spouse. I do not need any more today.
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| Photo from google images. James Baldwin's words are from “Notes on the House of Bondage” in The Nation, 1980 |
“The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; and I am beginning to suspect that whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be in capable of morality.” ~James Baldwin.
Thank you, Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect ,for hosting this holiday weekend.
In the year of our Lord 2025, I am finally fed up with Blogspot/Blogger.Starting in 2026, I'll be joining Poetry Friday from Substack. Stay tuned for details!
Hello Poets,
A little cinquain to say sayonara to this week.
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| Linda Mitchell |
December Mash-up ‘26
In winter
It’s the most wonderful time of the year
With the kids jingle belling
And everyone telling you be of good cheer
It's the most wonderful time of the year
all the singing is in
It's the hap-happiest season of all
With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings
When friends come to call
It's the hap-happiest season of all
the tops of the trees
There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for toasting
And caroling out in the snow
where the wind-bird
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories of
Christmases long, long ago
with it’s white eyes
It's the most wonderful time of the year
shoves and pushes
There'll be much mistl-toeing
And hearts will be glowing
When loved ones are near
among the branches
It's the most wonderful time of the year
Like any of us
It's the most wonderful time of the year
He wants to go to sleep
There'll be much mistltoeing
And hearts will be glowing
When loved ones are near
But he’s restless
It's the most wonderful time of the year
He has an idea
There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for toasting
And caroling out in the snow
And it slowly unfolds
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories of
Christmases long, long ago
from under his beating wings
It's the most wonderful time of the year
as long as he stays awake.
There'll be much mistltoeing
And hearts will be glowing
When loved ones are near
But his big, round music, after all,
It's the most wonderful time
Yes the most wonderful time
is too breathy to last.
Oh the most wonderful time
Of the year
Hello Poets,
Happy December. The cold of winter has certainly arrived here. There's no dumping of snow like my northern friends are experiencing. But, I did pull out layers of sweaters, vests and a heavy jacket to keep warm these days.
A new month means a new prompt for the Inklings to respond to. From Heidi: Address an item of your clothing.
I've been missing my Mom lately. Maybe it's the holiday season or, it's just been so long since she passed. Either way, I miss her. Thank goodness for her old blue puff-vest.
Dear Blue Puffy Vest,
It’s been sixteen years since Mom has worn winter clothes.
Long enough now, you could have a license to drive
those back-country dirt roads she learned to love.
She’s been gone these years too.
You’re still that same shade of blue
her eyes flashed
a bluejay on a winter’s lap of snow.
I didn’t take you the first or second or even third trip
to her house after the funeral.
It wasn’t until I saw you in the donation pile,
stains down the front from her walks through the woods,
coffee in hand.
I saw you in that heap of clothes still in the shape of her
and I longed for her hug, how she’d
rub my back in just that way to let me know
she loved me, best as she could.
That’s what made me pick you up, hold you at arm’s length
before trying you on and thinking oh, hey – she’s with me still.
I will grow into the shape of these hugs
as best I can in my seasons of missing her.
Linda Mitchell 12/5/25
Keep up with other Inkling responses to this prompt:
Mary Lee Hahn @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Catherine Flynn @ Reading to the Core
Molly Hogan @ Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret Simon @ Reflections on the Teche
Heidi Mordhorst @ my juicy little universe
Last night, I walked from the parking lot toward the collection of faces lit by phones in the cold.
Tall, short, narrow, wide in lumpy coats bundled up in December; for better or worse, these are my people. We educators gathered to tell our employer, the school board, that lengthening our contract day by thirty minutes without discussion, without reason, without evidence that it will have impact, without trust and respect for the hours we willingly give students is wrong.
My people are lights in these days of discontent and discouragement. We teach not for today but for the tomorrow we see coming. We teach through our contract hours and beyond to get the job done…to teach the people we want to see in this world.
We teach when we are tired, have to fight for our jobs and our benefits and our time clocks. We will continue to teach even though the School Board did vote to add this time to our contract day because we believe our work matters more than the number of hours printed on our contracts.
I will need the warmth and the light of my people to help me today as they have for these decades now. I'm tired but my students are not. They need me to be teacher-ready today and tomorrow and all the tomorrows of school.
Peace and light,
Linda
Hello Poets,
Happy Thanksgiving to those celebrating this weekend. Thanks so much to children's author, Buffy Silverman for hosting our holiday weekend round-up.
Thanks also to all those that shared photos and snippets from the recent NCTE gathering in Denver, CO. It was really fun to see the happy faces and bits of wisdom shared amongst the participants via social media pics and posts.
It's a quiet weekend of family here. All my kids are home. My mother-in-law has joined us. Our new dog, Dolly, is learning how to fit into our family circus of kids and cats and work schedules. Life is good and full of love and laughter. I feel blessed.
I was intrigued with the cinquains Karen E. shared last week. What a fun form to play with. Here are two from the season I'm in.
November
muted, softened
raking, gathering, crackling
saying goodbye for now
fading
Linda Mitchell 11/28/25
Thanksgiving
Pregame to Christmas Day All the aunts and uncles All their favorite casseroles turkeys
Linda Mitchell 11/21/25
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| Franz Marc. 1910. In the public domain |
