Tag Archives: winter

A poem for Macmillan

This is the poem I was invited to write for the Macmillan carol concert held at Leeds Minster on 18 December 2013. I’ll leave it up here over the festive season. If you would like to donate to Macmillan, you can do so here.

Turning Point

In the rush and the push of shopping and preparation,
Just stop occasionally and think of what this celebration
Is really all about. And I don’t just mean religion,
Because the origin of marking solstice goes back
To Neolithic times – so this is not just something mythical.
In fact, it’s astronomical, both in significance and the
Way the planets dance around the sun.

This festival is not by chance; as the sun sets in the west
Around the twenty-first, our world is at its darkest point,
The earth’s trajectory about to be reversed.
Hectic festivities mark the sun’s decline,
Yet winter cold and murk can feel the worst of times.
Darkness can take many forms – it’s not just physical,
It can be political or fiscal, universal or personal;
It can be self-inflicted and predictable, or take us
Completely by surprise, hit us right between the eyes…
No-one can ever tell; darkness can be utter hell.

Yet there are universal rules that will apply:
First, we never know our darkest point until it’s passed,
Until at last we sense a corner has been turned
And some small ray of hope shines through the gloom.
Second, if our darkness makes us feel entombed
Then we together have to find that light,
No matter how we might conceive that it could be –
Because light can mean whatever sets us free.

So all those coloured bulbs outside –
Santas, reindeer, snowmen, even owls * –
Illuminating gloomy winter nights
Are also a symbolic light reminding us how
Melancholic times will end one day. So I say this:
Gaze on those bright lights – the reds, the greens, the blues,
Discern what it could be that they might mean for you.
This time of year, we celebrate; but many yearn
To see the spring – well, here’s the thing:
Remember, when those Christmas lights come down at last,
The world has turned – the darkest moment of the year
Has passed.

©  December 2013
* Owls feature on the City of Leeds coat of arms, and appear on several civic buildings.

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Some more seasonal poetry…

Smile

Universities and schools all back,
No slack in the system now;
Remember – no-one takes holidays
In November or December.
Roads are jammed, buses rammed
With bodies wrapped in scarves and boots,
Car horns hoot in frustration, drivers express
Vexation at delays. Journeys take twice
Their normal duration – and that’s not nice.
Still, the season of goodwill lies
Just around the bend – a time for friends
And frivolity; so forget the jams, think of
All the jollity to come. Remember – in the end
It’s all worthwhile, so on those cold dark mornings
Don’t wait to be told; turn to a stranger
And – without warning – simply…
SMILE.

© 2013

 

Seasoning at Work

So we’re in the season of huddles and fuddles,
Of team goodwill and Christmas cheer,
As cakes and mince pies add inches
To waists and thighs – yes, it’s that time of year.
Tinsel and baubles will soon appear,
As Secret Santa comes out of his closet
And bonhomie resounds around the place.
The songs of Slade and Wizzard – all that brigade –
Will invade our ears from now until the New Year’s here,
But don’t be too dismayed – it won’t last long,
And before you know it, the tinsel, pies, the songs
Will all be gone but – if you agree –
What say we keep the bonhomie?

© 2013

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Seasonal poetry

Thought it was time I posted some more poetry. This is a (rather pessimistic) seasonal offering…

The November Judgement

I sentence you
To four months’ hard labour
Imprisoned by gloom and darkness,
Surrounded by misty, cold grey days.

Joviality will be tolerated
Only during organised association and recreation
That will mark the half-way point of your sentence;
After this, daylight will be strictly rationed
But brightness will be slowly increased,
And you may be allowed a little colour and warmth.

You should know there can be no leniency
Or remission, as, by the powers vested in me,
The sentence must run its full term;
It is The Law.
All are condemned to endure
The same dull monotony;
All must suffer equally.

This, though, is not an indeterminate sentence;
Each slow day will pass and in good time
You will be sprung from the murk,
Released, rehabilitated – hopefully
More appreciative
Of the light and warmth and freedom
That you took so much for granted
While you had it.
Take him down.

© 2013

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