The only lights were from candles and from the Christmas tree
A slow gentle flickering of lamp light and wandering flames
The different colours of the bulbs throwing patterns on the wall
Different colours
Crazy patterns
Each set of lights, with it’s own set of shadows
Cast upon the wall
Soft diffuse shadows
Of Faeries, of snowmen, of candles, of baubles
Lights captured on the painted faces of reindeers
On the long, bound, fronds of tinsel
A little mountain of presents lay beneath the tree
Higgledy piggledy
Bright shiny paper
Big parcels and tiny packets
Glittering and shining
Reflecting dancing lights
The little mountain had been growing for weeks
They lay ready
Aromatic candles, releasing perfumes
Mixed with her perfume
Music playing softly in the background
The words only audible if you held your breath to listen
Poetry on wheels
There for the listening
Drifting round the room
To mix with the perfume
To hang in the flickering lights
A room to calm
A room to love
She lay stretched on the settee
Her head in my lap
Her eyes closed
Her hair falling over my thigh
Her breathing soft and even
I had one hand stroking her hair
The other laid idly upon her breast
My fingers running through to her scalp
Drawing patterns on her forehead
Easing through her hair
Lifting and separating
Almost in time to the music
In keeping with the rhythm
The shine in her hair picking up the colours from the flickering lights
Painting highlights
Red then yellow
Then green
Then white
Dancing colours in soft, soft hair
As the strands fall through my fingers so they shimmer with colour
Her left hand moves from her stomach
Comes to rest upon my hand
The one on her breast
She strokes the back of my hand with her thumb
Gently
I am conscious of the fact she isn’t wearing a bra
A thin sheen of silk between my hand and her breast
The softness feels wonderful
The hard nub of her nipple apparent even to my palm
She smiles and stretches
The night outside is dark
Almost black
The first snow flake falls
Then another
Big flakes
Lighting the dark
As more and more fall
It is like moving lace
The street lights hazy
Their glow diffused by the descending flakes
Falling in slow motion
And building on the ground
I am aware she is also watching
She sits up
Turns and kisses me
Then stands and pulls me upright beside her
Tugging at my hand she guides me out of the warmth of the room
To the passage way
Without speaking she begins to put on her boots
Searches out a heavy coat and hat
I follow her lead
We leave the house
Into a winter wonderland
Our footprints, the only footprints
Virgin snow
Deep and crisp and even
She wraps her arms around my waist
I lay mine about her shoulders
Snuggled together we walk
Across lanes and fields
No talk
No need for talk
Just two people wrapped in each other
Two people wrapped in love
And snow
A white blanket beneath their feet
A lace curtain before them
Trees beginning to bend under the weight
Lines of fences in black and white
Running alongside
Funny shapes humps and bumps lost in white so white it was almost blue
Somewhere in the distance a church bell beings to chime
A beautiful rolling sound
Striking
One….two….
Three
Upwards to twelve.
We stop to kiss
Gently
Then with passion
Christmas day
And so it begins
And so it is.
Paintings and poetry. 