out-of-focus-christmas-lightsDecember Day

‘This shortest day of all the year was born

When fiery cloud-banks filled the eastern sky.

Concealed in grey since that belated dawn

The sun remains, and all around rise high

The latticed traceries of sleeping trees.

Beneath them now the woodland wanderer sees

So little living, little colour too,

For winter’s dull, damp blanket hides from view

The fallen glory of the year grown old,

And future beauty waiting to unfold.

And so to Christmas, festival of light,

When families in joy and hope unite,

To celebrate the birthday all remember,

Bringing a blaze of brightness to December.’

Jack (John) Kett

from ‘A Late Lark Singing’  (Minerva Press, 1997)