I wrote this piece for a bookarmy.com writing group. The words given, which have to be worked into a poem, were:

Angel, Christmas, Patience, Music and Reflection.

I didn’t come up with anything especially deep, but it’s pretty festive nevertheless.



Another year without a snow fall,
threats of shopping looming,dooming,
and yet with patience I continue,
trawling high street, bystreet, in the glooming
day. The Christmas adverts glint and glitter,
Music played since mid October,
forcing all reflection through a bitter
eye. I take a break, a cup of coffee,
feel refreshed and start anew,
trawling through the million things
on offer – I must buy for you.
It takes all day, my shoes give blisters,
and there’s nothing here I like,
people – pushing, shoving push-chairs –
cocky students on their bikes,
all make this take a great deal longer,
than it did last time I tried.
My coat – apparently not rainproof –
lets a stream of water in
along a seam I thought had dried.
Defeated, damp and cold surender,
sends my feet back to the car,
I drive in silent contemplation
and back at home I light the fire.
I display the usual trickets,
set a pan of wine to mull,
place the angel on the treetop,
bake my pastry full
of mincemeat – ready in september –
and wait for you to come back home.
My gift this year is not expensive,
but I’m sure it’s one you’ll like –
I have done the Christmas shopping,
written cards and made the cake.
The tree is finished, bright and splendid,
the Yorkshires mixed and set to bake,
all that’s left for you to do
is put your feet up by the fire.

My gift? That you can celebrate.