Yesterday evening, the clock on my phone tried to convince me that the New year was here hours before it was due. Then time appeared to whizz by and what seemed to be a mere minute later the display read 2018, 31st December.
It was all a bit confusing and I certainly needed that extra second of 2016 to work out what was going on.
Continue reading “prime time”
While Thursday arrived draped in pink chiffon, this morning I heard the muffled sound of an engine and Friday drove up in a car the colour of fog.
After spending the night gadding on the other side of the world, the sun crept in on Thursday morning, draped in a gauzy veil the colour of crushed strawberries.
(This mid-week post is brought to you in a shameless attempt to increase the number of visitors and views logged on the blog before the end of the year.)
Yesterday was December 25th, Christmas Day. Which makes today St Stephen’s Day; it’s the second day of Christmas, the day on which my true love sent me a pair of turtle doves, and in the UK it’s also known as Boxing Day.
It’s been a few years since I posted this, so here’s a topical love poem, taken from my collection Around the Corner from Hope Street.
When I lived in Spain I used to complain about how long the holiday season lasted: it seemed to stretch all the way from the fiestas at the beginning of December until past Twelfth Night.**
Here in the UK, though, much as I was bemoaning the supermarket aisles crammed with marzipan, iced cake and mince pies back in October, Christmas seems to be a bit of a flash in the pan.
Continue reading “almost over”
don't confuse the narrator 