that certain wonder

awake thinking “when

will that sleigh nod its bells of


“when will that chimney be

knelt upon and frost murmurs


no snowflakes fell

never did

even when predicted.

autumn abandons its

mask and leaves guy fawkes

to his ash

anticipation like

a slowly building mountain

its peak of clove and cinnamon

mistletoe hangs its pearl

chandeliers trying to act out

midair snow-globes

red robust wintry apparel,

cardinal blushed scarves.

mauve wines -

hint at spice, that evening

approaches - rocket fuelled


wished for snow that never

seemed to occupy the sill,

if only outside was the whiteness

of a page

where does childhood roam

at such times? everywhere it

seems, thru’ reindeer invented forests

past glittering pirates where

wonder is upon every unopened


5am startle and wrapping paper

eased from their secrets,

sugar comets thru’ out such

bliss-frothed minds

magical occurrences

beneath the bauble heavy

plastic pine

tis wonderful

a creamy fudge arctic,

presents like terrain to wade thru’

gleam-glimmered hopeful

there’s a star that

looks fondly down

with a heart drawn -

of snow -

however watchful

trying whilst the magic

is near, to be heard

i hear you quite clearly

close as a shell listened to

cries of the sea

and my heart is held

among its yuletide


of all the past’s there

have been, room to

room dashing

that glow of cheer,

now is only backwards,

backwards looking

where the cobwebs

act as tinsel, shimmers

of once was

and as the lane grows

divided and distant, having

visited i know you stride away

this night of thrill

waiting for snowflakes to

murmur their cushioned fall

muffled and fleecing

aren’t they cold white kisses?

all from you however fleeting

waiting for the creases

of pavements and hills

to vanish

and a morning to

wake to silent and

so eerily still

Make a free website with Yola