BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 52 Christmas on the Mountain

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the stars are burning bright
when the cool dark of December
spreads into the blackened night.

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the snowflakes twirl and swirl
when the cool dark of December
turns each flake into a pearl.

When it’s Christmas on the mountain,
the wild creatures run to play
in the cool dark of December
on the eve of Christmas Day.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

Birds in the snow



Banner MountainBanner Mountain Girl # 10

Sometimes when snow fell at Banner Mountain, my mother would look out at the big, white snowflakes peppering down and she would tell us kids, “The old goose is losing her feathers.”
            That expression coming from Mama was a pleasant thought but of course we kids were old enough to know it was a game Mama played – a game of make-believe. Why not just say, “Oh look! It’s snowing!”

            Too dull-sounding.

             A sky full of feathers falling off a goose nudged my imagination and gave me a reason to dream. That image was far more motivational than “Look at the big snowflakes.”
            Perhaps Mama’s way of entertaining us was the beginning of my desire to become a writer. Mama herself was inspirational to me. She always said I was happy with a pencil in my hand and a tablet to write on.
            My love for my mama and her love for me is the reason my first poem was written to her and about her.  I wrote it at school in cursive on a page in my Big Chief tablet when I was nine years old. And then I shared it with Mama.
            While I was not certain my little rhyming poem was as clear to Mama as it was to me, I’m thankful she was the first person, besides my teacher, to read my very first creative writing. At that time, there was no fridge in our house on which to pin up the poem, like parents can do today.
          But Mama kept it for me, and I still have it somewhere in my files.

© 2017 Freeda Baker Nichols

Old Winter Man

Banner Mountain

Old Winter Man

The snow lay cold
on frozen leaves of brown–
a tale Old Winter Man foretold
across the woods and up the hills and down.
Along the pike
the frosted snowflakes fell
like feathers–no two shapes alike.
Old Winter Man conveyed the saga well.
The story’s old but new
from winter’s point of view.

© 2016 Freeda Baker Nichols

Christmas Gifts


Christmas Gifts 

Green cedar trees under the snow.
Two hearts, one package wrapped in red.
The Chevy’s engine running low.
Warm hands inside wool mitten thread. 

A barred owl shakes his furry head.
Green cedar trees under the snow.
The Chevy lurches like a sled
toward narrow trees straight in a row.

Bump bump bump bump! Watch out below!                    Banner Mountain
Don’t hit that little rabbit’s bed!
Green cedar trees under the snow,
fast turning wheels stop on a tread. 

One kiss, one hug, one moon that spread
its beam as soft as candle glow.                          DSC_0507
Two hearts, one package wrapped in red.
Green cedar trees under the snow.

© 2014 Freeda Baker Nichols


Country Christmas — a poem








Country Christmas

Christmas in the country,
cedar trees in white,
moonbeams shine upon them
and decorate the night.

Animals recite
a Christmas carol of old,
retell the Christmas story
among the forest fold.

Stars look down and glisten,
a peacefulness begins
and drops a net around the earth
at Christmastime again.

© Freeda Baker Nichols