“On This Day” Repost – Christmas in Tasmania

It’s that time of year – the week before Christmas.  Are you feeling it yet?  Facebook reminded me how I felt back in 2014, when I wrote this post.

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

Christmas in Tasmania

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