a christmas poem

lighted christmas tree
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Early morning woken by the young,

Checking for the boot marks in

The flour sprinkled late last night.

Wrapping paper torn in ribbons,

Only one gift really matters,

The socks, the pants, the chocolate coins

All pushed aside in readiness for food.

Let’s not forget the pigs in blankets

And the turkey being eaten for another week,

The Christmas pudding and the yule log too.

And then to sofas all across the land,

To watch the speech from the main lady

Followed by our Mary Poppins and

A Strictly special, maybe games of Twister

Added to the pints of booze

Making sure that dad will lose.

Finally we traipse to bed, warm with love,

The sound of sleigh bells flying high above.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Love Rachel xx

the christmas market

string lights over gold bauble and garland
Photo by ROMAN ODINTSOV on Pexels.com

Little huts that glow in darkened parks

Below the towering cathedral walls,

The savoury smells of onions waft

Through the icy Christmas air,

Mingled with the doughnut highs

And sweeping lows of carol notes.

Sellers blow on frozen fingers,

Hoping for hot chocolate treats

To hold and hug and breathe some life

Back into bodies gripped with cold,

Paper cups of festive joy, topped with cream,

Marshmallow speckled at £4 a pop.

Children beg for wooden toys they’ll never use,

Handmade with love, collectibles;

While adults wonder: should I buy that cuckoo clock?

That hand carve stool? That jumper knitted by

A girl who herds the mountain goats

On top of grassy slopes in Austria.

We huddle round the skating rink

And watch the children cling to penguins

As they glide across the ice, ending with

A ride upon the ferris wheel, watching humans

Like they’re ants, far below us, unaware

Enjoying hours at the Christmas fair.