The Christmas episode of the Eat The Storms Poetry Podcast has been released. On it, you’ll hear me (!!!) reading four of my poems with a wintry and festive feel. I am so grateful that Damien (the host with the most!) invited me back to read. I love Christmas and the last time I appeared on the podcast was my podcasting debut, my reading live debut and was so much fun.
Some of the poems I’ve read you’ll find on Paul Writes Poems already; the others will be released between now and Christmas along with my daily Haiku Advent Calendar so keep your eyes peeled.
The last time I had the opportunity to appear on Eat The Storms, the other readers were amazing. The same is said for my fellow poets appearing on the Christmas episode, but, this time Damien has ramped things up for the festivities so it’s bursting at the seams like a vintage stocking.
I have released a poem this month already, you can find the piece of nostalgia by clicking, ‘At Christmas‘.
It was a massive honour and privilege to take part, especially with the calibre of the other poets reading. I may have been was awestruck! (I must apologise for the sore throat though.)
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.