Bare branches lay still
frozen in the murk of the mist
a gloom of grey blankets the world
that even the luminescence of street lamps
offer only obscurity
and it seems that the day is destined
to be lived in a monochromatic mire
- until -
a flicker on the horizon
soft-focused flame of white
fluttering on a breeze of its own making
white warms to the copper
copper burns to crimson
the firebird has returned
melting wintry melancholy
with its presence.
Welcome to day 1 of my Advent Calendar of poetry for 2022. I hope you enjoy the poems I’ll be sharing over the next 24 days.
Please let me know any thoughts or comments you may have below…
Christmas is my time of year I can get drunk on the scents of clementine and clove I like to sing along with Bing & Bowie, Wizzard & Wham dance around the tree tryIng not to trip over well-wrapped gifts and tins of roses I get hypnotised by the shimmering of baubles against twinkling lights and tinsel every year I sit and lose myself in the magic of the snowman like it’s my first time seeing it.
Get me round the table on Christmas day pulling crackers with prizes I never win a toast and then a race for the pigs in blankets and last roast potato smiles of happiness, wine and champagne from all the faces, leaves the best taste.
Does it really matter to you, if the odd day, my breakfast is Bucks Fizz, coco pops and orange matchmakers and afternoon hot chocolates sometimes have Bailey’s in, sometimes not? We celebrate in our own ways.
I’ve always enjoyed Christmas ever since I watched letters with burnt edges float up the chimney as a child when Dudley Moore was a runaway elf and presents spilled from tree to settee and the whole family was happy and together.
Christmas is my time of year let’s celebrate together all in our own ways.