You poor lost souls, I weep with you for all you’ve not received

In terms of credit, wealth and fame ... I’m sure you are aggrieved.

You took a seat, unwavering, with pen and ink and pad,

And using your creative gifts, you gave it all you had.

You said that love’s “…a pretty toy for babes to play withal.”

But who were you? Who broke your heart? Who had such awful gall?

We read “the tree’s first foliage” hails “the sweet approach of spring.”

Thus, namelessly, without reward, your heart and soul did sing.


At Christmas comes our favorite song of days in which to delve

With milking maids, French hens, gold rings, and doves ... from one to twelve.

We sing of geese a laying, and of swans as white as snow.

Who wrote it though? I guarantee ... no one will ever know.

Odd songs, too, can grace our worlds. Our little brains, we tax

To find out who had written “Lizzie Borden Took an Axe.”

Gleefully she swung it, not just once, but forty times.

And forty-one, her father got, to add into the rhymes.

Just think, the things our old friend wrote, too many, true, to count,

Yet over time, they grow and grow, and still their numbers mount.

Who wrote “You are my Sunshine ...” that we sing when we are glad?

And no one “knows the trouble I’ve seen” we sing when we are sad.

At campfires “she’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.”

That boats row “gently down the stream” ... comes tripping off our tongues.

And sadly sings Greensleeves – “Alas, my love, you do me wrong.”

Johnny, too, had proved untrue, to Frankie in a song.

Our dear friend, Old Anonymous, is cheerful, dour, and more.

He’s sunny, tart, inventive ... sad. He’s rarely, though, a bore.

His maverick multi-egos amplify his winning charm,

And if he isn’t always good, he never does us harm.

In Song of Songs, he wrote, “how beautiful! ... Your eyes are doves.”

“Come All Ye Faithful,” too, his song – whom everybody loves.

Our dearest friend, Anonymous, be “it” a he or she

Comforts and inspires us. Often fills our hearts with glee.

And so, this merry season, for your generous largesse

We thank our benefactor ... or our benefactress!

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2023. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com