Still
(The Snow On Christmas Eve)
by
Melanie Wood


Falling crystals sparkle like stars
Gliding like confetti in the whimsical breeze,
Delicate etchings carved by Nature’s fair hands;
As hushed as a whisper
But summoning all to look upon it.
Frail loveliness on an earthward journey
Arriving unspoiled and chaste,
Individual like fingerprints.
Child eyes glitter with desire
Yearning to re-shape them with reddened fingers
Into frozen men and strongholds
Whilst older eyes behold with admiration
The fragile gift given so generously,
Gazing with pleasure upon the ornaments
And drawing them close with gloved hands
To consider their intricacies.
Their hearts blaze with fond remembrance
Recalling Christmas Eves long past –
Drinking deep of the warm cordial of friendship,
Fancying that gingerbread men could dance,
Anticipating the surprises of old St. Nicholas
With excited nerves twitching like anxious horses
And sleeping at last in the dark hours of morning
When Drosselmeier manipulated their visions
Sprinkling dream-dust upon their minds
Like the falling crystals sparkling like stars.



Copyright Melanie Wood .  All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of author.

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