Holiday Haiku
Through the 5 senses
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY SUBSCRIBERS, FOLLOWERS AND READERS AND HAPPY 2026!
Here’s my Christmas-week post for you:
***
Gingerbread slices
And warm mugs of chocolate
Herald peace and joy
The sound of loud bells
Rising in the narrow streets
Deafen my frosted ears
Pine and balsam scents
Float like whispers of mem’ry
They remember my name
Gathering up snow
In the palms of our bare hands
We build a snowman
Blinded by the lights
Of Christmases yet to come
How will I survive
*
I’ve been on Substack for just over a year, and have decided to continue to keep all my content free, a sharing between writers and readers.
Any support you give me is much appreciated and cherished. How can you do that?
*Follow me
*Share my posts with anyone you think might enjoy them
*Subscribe for free
*Invest in a paid monthly subscription for $7/month, cancellable at any time
*Invest in a paid yearly subscription for $70/year, cancellable at any time
*Invest in a founder’s subscription for $210/year, receive free copies of all books I may publish in the future
*Buy me a coffee, one time or occasionally
The same content is available, no matter what option you choose
P.S. If you got this far, and you enjoyed my post, and know someone else who might also enjoy it, please share this with them. Not that numbers are that important, but I have 97 subscribers and would be kinda happy to hit 100 by year end.
Ooooo.... so different to our Christmas here...
Not that it was all sand and sun this time - the temperature dropped from 41 C a few days ago down to 23 or 24 - but our Christmas always has a Summer vibe. The beaches were crowded.
Thanks for this glimpse of your far more frosty festivities!
D :)
Your poem reminded me of a poem called "4 Seasons" I did about 5 yrs ago. Assuming your indulgence, here's the last verse:
The ice hand, white and cadaverous
reaches up and catches me, as it must
then lowers me to the precipice.
I must descend now
and though I am not in a fun mood
it is a charming view.
I amble on, aware of my Fate
and ignore the stark white spectre
buried in the in the hollow of that valley.
I clamp my eyes shut
and wish that when I open them
all will be well again.
Soon, tinkling lights emerge
and kids frolic in white fluff.
Bah, Humbug, I mutter
you can’t trick me, you Brute.
Commence your scourge
you craven Winter Solstice.