Christmas Night Reflections
Fluttering beneath the newly cut
Festive green hollies,
Decked out with heaped drapes
Of freshly fallen snow,
A bold little red breasted Robin,
Busily searching,
Cheerfully hops to and fro.
Darting between the soft, swirling
flakes
Of unique crystalline, driven without
respite,
He alights upon his sheltered
perch
And begins to shrilly trill:
Against the on coming, long
Drawn out Christmas night.
For the drawing darkness is
deepening,
Whilst the harsh wind blows so chill;
And, gently waking
From nonsensical dreaming,
I harken to the old dog Fox,
As, barking, he pads on down
Through the gorse strewn hill.
Suddenly stirred from dozing
Idleness,
As the charred log shifts and
settles in the grate,
I recall with vivid fondness:
Some old memories, good times,
The well meant promises
I did so earnestly to undertake.
Of old acquaintance...
Not forgotten,
And those that were
Or are no more,
Of circumstance and friendship:
And of they
That daily come
To pass through my open door.
But now the flames from the fire,
Dancing in the frosted window
panes,
Are calling for the poker
So I may stoke the blaze again;
For turning my warming back
Upon the locked out winters keep...
I hear that steadfast little Robin
Sing once more -
As I fall back into uncontested sleep!
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2014
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