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December is a troubadour singing in celebration

of vanillla-ice skies

snow-cone hills

frost-sculptured window pane


of crackling fire

steaming hot chocolate lamp-lit reading chair


of children laughing,

dragging homeward pine tree

decking it with kindergarten art

candy canes, and flashing lights

hanging hope in a stocking

saying prayers before bed


singing in jubilation as angels

join the song on high


Wilma Gundy

◄ Cat

Poetry ►


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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Thu 30th Nov 2023 15:06

Thanks Wilma.
Your frost scuptured window pane reminds me of the 1950's when thick frost on the inside was our double glazing, and dad's old army greatcoat was a welcome addition to my bedding.

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Stephen Atkinson

Wed 29th Nov 2023 22:48

Oh, I've gone all Christmassy! Lovely little Christmas hug, Wilma

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keith jeffries

Wed 29th Nov 2023 22:21

Wilma, Christmas might still be several weeks away but this beautiful poem has already taken me there.
Thank you for this,

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