that certain wonder



awake thinking “when

will that sleigh nod its bells of

arrival”


“when will that chimney be

knelt upon and frost murmurs

protest?”


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

excitement


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

parcel


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

wreathe


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


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