happiness in the small moments
This poem was prompted by the poem Hugh wrote that I read this morning, got me thinking what signals Christmas to me.
Raspberries and Strawberries,
picked fresh from the bush,
the smell of fresh cut hay,
on a summers evening hush.
A thunderstorm with lightning,
flashing in the dark,
the mouth-watering aroma ,
wafting from bbq’s in the park.
All of this says Christmas,
in the place that I call home,
my island state of Oz land,
what means Christmas where you’re from?
© ceenoa
I love it! If you put your poem and my poem together and read them both, just look at how different they are in terms of what Christmas means by living in different hemispheres. You could say it’s like chalk and cheese or savoury and sweet. When I read yours, I was there with you, Claudette. Get the BBQ on and I’ll get the suntan cream and sun umbrella. Oh, and not forgetting a few bottles of chilled wine.
I know, that is why I had to write it. Christmas is always portrayed as cold and snow, but over half of the world it isn’t like that. I think we should get some media representation equality happening at Christmas. 🙂
I’ll make sure I keep a few extra bottles of wine for you Hugh. 🙂
Reblogged this on Versus Blurb.
LikeLike
Go on – would love to know what Christmas looks like where you are ….please
LikeLike
I experienced Christmas in Tasmania in 1990 while living in Kingston as a Rotary Youth Exchange Student. Coming from upstate NY, USA, where Christmas means snow and cold I loved the difference. I didn’t feel homesick at all because we were out in the sun. Thank you for reminding me of that fun year.
LikeLike
Ceenoa 
Happiness is kind words from a friend …..