Christmas activities coming thick and fast

monochrome photograph of a nutcracker
Photo by Sonny Sixteen on Pexels.com

The smell of pine

And flash of fairy lights

Crack the air that’s crisp and cold

But swaddled in our winter coats

And woolly hats with bobbles on

We only feel the warmth of fires

Where hot dogs cook

And wine is mulled

It’s weeks away but we can hear

The bells already in the air.

I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but the ads for Christmas activities are already seeping through.

For me, I think that this year there are a choice of two things to pick from this year, and I’ve done neither before. One is a light trail at the local country park, and the other is to see the Nutcracker.

The Nutcracker is nearly twice the price but you can’t go through life without seeing it once.

The next step will be making mince pies, but I think I may wait a few weeks until I do that.

Much Love

Rachel xx

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.