Noel K Fletcher

Arise the morning’s velvet glow.
When through the mist, across the snow
rays of purple, red and green
offer up the golden sheen
of diamond sparkles cloaked in white
that shepherd out the depths of night,
suggesting warmth, forthcoming hope
to all that from their slumber grope
to still alarm bells, stretch and yawn
and stumble out into the dawn,
for car, or train or bus or walk
without a wish to read or talk.
Just focus on the tread of feet
slip and sliding down the street
through the drifts, around the slush,
white blanket over sounds that hush
the noises that we know so well
soft cushion round the steeple bell.
that whispers now all folk to hear
enter here in all good cheer,
some pass by wrapped from the cold,
the feeble, fit, the young and old.
Eyes still fixed upon the ground
on to the shop or homeward bound
with paper and milk by the litre.
Settle down, a choc’late eater
pen poised over crossword puzzle
dog on lap, wet nose and muzzle
a choc’ for you then one for me.
Now it’s time for a cup of tea.