The Calm of Boxing Day Morning

Holding hands in fresh gloves
we walk the Winter woods;
it’s quiet on Boxing Day morning;
probably too many bad heads sleeping it off.

The essence of Chris is still hanging in the air,
from the tall pine sentries lining our route,
watching us in the scarves wrapped around our faces;
the same scarves muffling our voices,
and the words we get wrong,
singing the Christmas songs everyone knows.

We ask each other to name their favourite part of Christmas so far;
I say spending time with you;
I know I say the same thing every year but it’s the truth;
and you say the same.

I’m lost in your hazelnut eyes when snow begins to fall;
I wonder what it would be like to be frozen in time;
right here, right now, in this very moment;
but when the soft snowflake hits my cheek;
I wake up from my festive fog,
and we walk on
– destination unknown.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and Festive Good Fortune,

Paul

Advent Calendar Haiku #24

Seasons greetings! It’s here everybody! Christmas Eve! Can you believe it? Only twenty-four days ago I started the Haiku Advent Calendar as a challenge to myself and a gift to you all. We’ve made it!!!

I’m going to put on the tree lights and settle down for a day of relaxation and maybe some baking.

But first, I’ll leave you with this haiku…

Santa packs his sleigh,
ready to warp across earth;
The best gift is LOVE.

Thanks for joining me and for the kind words during the Haiku Advent Calendar. If you want to read the previous Haikus, click the specific day below:

Day 1. Day 2. Day 3. Day 4. Day 5. Day 6. Day 7. Day 8. Day 9. Day 10. Day 11. Day 12. Day 13. Day 14. Day 15. Day 16. Day 17. Day 18. Day 19. Day 20. Day 21. Day 22. Day 23.

I hope you all have time to connect with your friends and family as well as yourself over Christmas. It’s been great sharing these Haikus with you all.

Merry Christmas to One and All.

Paul

(photo:canva)

Appearing On… Eat The Storms – Christmas Episode

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.)

Merry Christmas Everybody

Ho Ho Ho

Paul

Autumn & I

I welcome Autumn
as she drapes me
in a blanket of bronze and straw-gold
whispering seductive sweet promises of
late lavender sunrises
and delicious red sunsets
she mentions velvet night-skies flecked with tiny diamonds
and an occasional silent symphony by the Northern Lights
even the rain softens under her presence
guiding acorns to ground
while winged sycamores float safely down
and when the wind wraps itself around her
it whistles happily
carrying her scent of blackberry and pear
feeding my nostalgia of years gone by
everything about Autumn is chaos
everything about Autumn is just so
I long for her and her embrace to return
by the time Winter shakes my hand
with his icy fingers.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem , I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave any comments you may like.

Take It Easy,

Paul

The Bench At The Harbour

We sat under a steady autumn sky
watching the tiny acts of rebellion
as young clouds broke away from old
grey from white, white from grey
and the sun threw firecrackers
at the surface of the sea
silent, straw-gold crackling amid the calm
we stole glances from each other
as the tender harbour breeze
kisses our cheeks turning us blush-pink
the terns and gulls played tag
swooping too close to earth
that the seagrass stole some feathers
and – as nature misbehaved all around us
I softly gripped your hand
knowing you’d never let me go
because I was falling in love with you even more
and this falling will go on forever
like the marble-blue horizon

– under the steady
autumn
sky.

Thanks for taking time to read my poem, I hope you enjoyed it. While you’re here, why not check some of my other work out.

Take It Easy

Paul

Margins

I write in the margins
because I used to live there
an oddity, an anomaly, a correction
wasting valuable space on the page 
until the margins became
too tight to breathe in
too tight to survive in
so I leaked into the rest of the page
sharing my words with others
finding friendship and love.

I write in the margins
because the margins made me.

———

Thanks for taking time to read my poem. I hope you enjoyed. Why not take time to read some of my other pieces?

Take It Easy

Paul

Hope, Bottled

I remember how
my hand fit into yours
with welcoming ease
and the warmth of your skin
heated my tepid fingers
as we walked along the beach

the North Sea was trembling with chilling intensity
– as we skimmed stones
plucked fresh from champagne-gold sand
they wisped over waves
their light friction warming the water
and calming the sea

I told a joke about blushing lobsters and seaweed
you laughed because it was so bad
and the frame of your face
lit up the dusky sky
better than the distant hilltop fire beacons
could ever hope to

I’m hoping this has all has gone to plan –
that some years have passed –
and our hands still fit each others
that the message I buried in this bottle
is not lost to the tide
like so many other romances
and we’re reading this in the spot
where we sat and snuggled that night
stargazing at the peach-kissed setting sun on the horizon

      – because I know that I will love you forever.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem dedicated to my beautiful wife, Christine.

Take it easy,

Paul

No Sense Of Summer


The string is delicately coarse
between my fingers and palm
when I pull
the blinds need a heavy touch
to open this morning

I’m expecting hues of
poached peach & rhubarb
to welcome me to Monday
but the sky is chalk-grey and despondent 

My ears crave the tranquility
of a blackbird & sparrow choir
when all I can hear
is the drowning of the day
the rain pelting the paving slabs

And I can’t smell the jasmine
that normally waltzes its way
from the raised bed in the garden
beyond my bedroom window –
but the scent of damp mown-grass
is refreshing

It’s bittersweet
that mid-July’s sun won’t be seen today
because on the bright side
I’ll savour this rainy day
with you.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. I hope you enjoyed it and at least some of it resonated with you. While you’re here, why not check some of my other work?

Take it easy,

Paul

That Shirt

that thick cotton shirt
shade of  deep midnight
with moon-silver thread 
glistening ethereal under streetlights
wearing it
felt celestial
so I only wore it once
for our first date
drinks and pizza
looking at each other
over red gingham cloth
and flickering candle
wax dripping down
an empty bottle
of last week’s
house wine
conversation mostly answers
to silent questions
asked with eyes
and the curve of
nervous lips
I tried to be a gentleman
and pull out your chair
as we were leaving
the waiter saw it as an affront
for which I apologised
to show I was a gentleman
and when we hugged goodbye
I felt our cheeks touch
both warm with wine
and affection
so when I see
the same shirt
folded neatly in your drawer
close to the memory box
and wedding album
I catch a glimmer from
the moon-silver thread 
that helped stitch
our lives together
I believe in magic.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem, dedicated to my beautiful wife.

Take it Easy,

Paul

Winter Walk

Zero degrees C
in the peak of midwinter
we wrapped up warm
in wool and polyester
pulled on our boots
thick with suede upper
and gripping rubber soles
primed and ready
to walk the forest
its floor frosted white
glamourising the
natural litter
of fallen acorns and amber needles
we held each others hand
through our scandi grey gloves
a) for support since I was clumsy
and b) for love
we looked out over
the blank frozen fields
and into the feeble glare of
a weakened winter sun
some chimneys breathed in the distance
a sign of life going on
while time stood still
as we tightened our hands
our minds raced
to what the future would hold
luckily for me
I still get to hold you.

Thanks for reading. Thanks to freestocks on unsplash for use of the image.

Take it easy,

Paul