Whispers of a White Winter

Indigo and azure paint November’s night-sky,

Whilst aromas of nutmeg migrate from a warming mince pie.

Star Anise infused wine simmers on the stove –

Cradling the fragrance of floral clove.

Classical carols echo into the ether –

Into the bleak midwinter

Where frosty wind made moan

And into an emerald realm where conifers are grown.

Shades of shamrock green shine throughout the night,

Alight

Against December’s impending white.

Yellow, blue, green, and red,

Twinkle through her solitary home,

Where her only companion is a Christmas gnome.

Remnants of pumpkin-spiced lattes sit in her sink,

Whilst love pirouettes across the local ice-rink.

She watches couples hand-in-hand,

Skate to the jubilance of a wind-kissed jazz band.

Cheeks are daubed with bright red holly berries,

As voices recite poems found within archaic libraries.

Ice settles on her lonely eyelashes,

Whilst scalding charcoal ashes

Fall through the fire grate –

Reflecting her ability to ice-skate.

Upon return to her wood perfumed home,

She again finds herself alone.

Yet an ALDI carrot crosses her TV,

Welcoming a season of festive glee,

And she knows that soon,

She will no longer be John Lewis’ man on the moon,

But surrounded by kin,

Chatting over spiced, iced gin

And toasting the return of her roaming twin.

Dusted in hot cinnamon cocoa powder,

The whispers of winter become wondrously louder.

November’s nebulous skies begin to clear –

Creating a sparkly sphere

Full of cheer.

December’s celestial artistry

Discards Autumn’s orange debris,

And is made magnificent by she

Who finds succour in a spiced chai tea.

This season brings the alone to those loved

And gloved,

Whilst they walk amidst winter’s warmth -

Emanating from the North

Pole;

A place that will always welcome her wandering soul.