Poems by Ann D. Stevenson

Homely aromas
of freshly baked bread.
Scents of the garden
infused in my head.

Wiffs of the sea
whilst walking the beach.
Sniffs of freshness
from an apple or peach.

The essence of a baby
breathed in from its skin.
And my love, ah my love,
I love breathing you in.

Christmas here once more,
hard to ignore, festive
wreaths on every door.

Housed inside is needled
pine, bright baubles shine
with tiny twinkling lights.

Trees glow, festive music
flows, lifts up hearts, baking
starts, excitement grows.

Little sticky fingers help frost
white icing on the cake, set mini
figures among the snowy peaks.

Traditional food abounds,
turkey with all its trimmings,
a flame-lit Christmas pudding.

Snaps of bursting crackers,
scattered paper hats and jokes,
sounds of popping corks.

Glasses brimmed with bubbles
of good cheer - that's how it is
for some - at this time of year.

My tasks for Christmas have begun
once the mistletoe's been hung.

Wrapped up presents under the tree,
hopefully opened up with glee.

A Christmas pudd and Christmas cake
amongst the  other goodies I've baked.

The turkey stuffed, ready to cook,
from much loved recipes in my book.

Table laid, plus crackers and games,
to keep it all fun, that's the aim.

But, oh it's such hard work for me.
It really is hard work for me.

To keep it all fun.  That's the aim,
table laid, plus crackers and games.

From much loved recipes in my book,
the turkey's stuffed, ready to cook.

Amongst other goodies, I've baked
a Christmas pudd and Christmas cake.

Hopefully opened up with glee,
wrapped up presents under the tree.

Once the mistletoe's been hung
my tasks for Christmas have begun.

When I awake to one more dreary day,
an empty heart with empty hours to fill,
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

A breath of air can blow the clouds away,
my thoughts, like clouds, can drift aloft at will,
when I awake to one more dreary day.

If some stubborn clouds should decide to stay,
their shadows causing something of a chill,
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

I search out old memories, I find that they
help lift my spirits up, and linger still,
when I awake to one more dreary day.

Memories, like sunshine, do not stay at bay,
their warmth and love my empty heart may fill.
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

As sunny days arrive, I hope that they
bring further magic moments to instill.
When I awake to one more dreary day
I know that brighter skies will come my way.

There's a hum from the bees in the air
which stirs up gentle musings in my mind,
scented blossom is making me aware
of certain hidden treasure they may find.

There's a stir in the branches of the trees
it reflects quiet awakenings of my own,
leaves unfurl in a warm and gentle breeze
they stretch out until they become full-blown.

There's music in the garden from the birds,
cheerful sounds that make my spirits glow,
is this a calling that the flowers have heard
a time to bloom, to blossom and to grow.

There's joy in new beginnings, a fresh start,
it grows deep inside and lifts up my heart.