Christmas is coming

At last I’m getting that Christmas vibe. Nothing to do with shopping (over and done with, thank God) more to do with taking the time to reconsider what I have done with decorations so far, listening to festive music on Lyric FM (loving an album called ‘Yulefest’ which has been featuring) and reflecting on what Christmas means to me .

After spending quite a while wrapping Christmas presents in the gentle sunlight of the shortest day, I took the wreath down from the front door and inspected it. It was bought years ago in the gift shop attached to the Horse and Jockey pub near Thurles and over time I have added scarlet bows and golden balls. It was looking a little careworn so I added a little more gold and retied a couple of the bows – and what a difference that has made. I also brought out a heart shaped wreath of berries which had never come out of the box – this is now adorning the only really bare wall in the kitchen, so I think I am going for a Scandi theme overall this year. My most precious find was a blue glass angel which had survived last year’s trip home from the Viennese Christmas markets – it now adorns the small metal tree which has been a hanger for my exotic bead collection for the rest of the year.

All of this is by way of a reflection on the fact that today is the shortest day of the year and as I am writing this a half moon has peeped sulkily out of the clouds. I know a full moon is forecast on Christmas Day for the first time in thirty eight years and that next year will be a year of major disclosures and light being shined in dark corners. Or, at least, so I have been told.
It’s cockstep today – the year turns towards the light and days are getting longer again from tomorrow onwards.

The excitement of Christmas is different when you don’t have children, though I am always hoping to be surprised and delighted by what I may find under the tree on Christmas morning. It’s about catching up with old friends, connecting with family,spending time with the people who mean most to you (if you can), and missing the people who used to be there to celebrate it with you. Even now at this time in my own life I have an expectation of magic at Christmas, and love the rituals of preparation. This year as there has almost been a Christmas baby in my own family, (hi there, Cohen Dickson!) born on December 17th, feels particularly special.Happy Christmas and may the coming year bring us peace, health,love and joy in our lives.

The light of angels

It was a day when you'd pray 
for the gift of wisdom;
to the hiss of a traveller's kettle
hung high on a hook 
scorched by a turf fire
stacked over blistering bogwood
smoking the kitchen out with the spit of its trapped sap. 

It was a day when you'd light 
a yellow beeswax candle 
burning the half lit hours down to the stump:
recalling incense,the soft swish 
of white Dominican robes and the clink of rosary beads
at their waists as they passed on nightly study patrol.

It was a day when our kitchen 
smelt like a land of milk and honey 
gold with cinnamon baking on buns in the oven
exotic with the tang of lapsang souchong
poured from cups so thin 
that they felt on your lips light as a lover's touch. 

It was a day blessed by the scent 
of an unnamed essence, sweet as oranges
waiting to be picked in Moroccan gardens;
no harm could come to us as the light of angels
shone off the glass in the dresser,
and you held me close on your lap 
snug as the shell on a conker.

This poem feels Christmassy to me - just sharing it as my blog for this week! 
Enjoy!
copyright Patricia-Anne Moore