I just discovered an old poem of mine by accident. I wrote it for a local newspaper’s Christmas poem competition. I came nowhere in the competition but it is lovely to come across it now, by accident, over the Christmas break. I found it because I was looking for a poem that my five year-old daughter spontaneously sung out loud a few weeks ago (without request, prompting or alteration by me). I have put her poem here too which I think conveys being in the moment of Christmas and the child’s urge to keep exploring.
Sarah’s Christmas poem (c.2000)
The electric bulb brought a bitter morning,
as I fumbled in the bathroom
resenting the dark.
But when I reached the boathouse
the sun was half risen, the sky soft with
dove grey and white.
The hard towpath glistened.
A pane of old glass was the canal:
ducks rotating in circles,
their feet cutting like jig saws.
And finally the heron – frozen in time –
A sage in his utter stillness,
was a Christmas gift to me.
Holly Christmas by Sophie Menary age 5, November 2013
Holly, holly, Christmas holly
Holly, holly, Christmas
It’s like when dreams are.
Christmas holly, Christmas holly
Birds and cherries, birds and cherries.
Like one dream,
I love Dina and Din.
We were wondering what we could buy them.
Christmas holly to dream of,
we think about all of our cousins,
we think about Mummy buying us special presents.
At last, Christmas day has been exciting:
now what are we going to do?