The Reason for the Season

The Reason for the Season

Cosy companionable feet
In thick-knitted pale grey woollen socks
Stretch out of the plaid blanket
Towards a roaring fire
On which a cast-iron kettle
Sitting on a chequered grate
Bubbles away.

The tortoiseshell cat
With limpid blue eyes
Has abandoned its indifference
In favour of warm cuddles
And a contented curling up
In the grateful heat.

Outside, a blizzard blows
And the pine branches
Already bowed down with snow
Bend further , and sway,
And the chimney pot rattles
Perhaps under the feet
Of flying reindeer
And a fat man in a sleigh.

The scent of pine needles
And pine cones softly lit
By festive wax candles
And red tartan bows
Mingles with the smoky fragrance
Of hot dark coffee
And the flavour
Of white chocolate.

And yet the reason
For the season
Is different : tiny
Magical, straw-manger
Tender, and sweet.

2 thoughts on “The Reason for the Season

    1. Amita Paul

      Thank you so much, Vijay Nair, especially for the Frost quote . I really enjoyed writing the poem with no thought of how it would end, but the end just flowed. As Frost says :
      “ . A poem may be worked over once it is in being, but may not be worried into being. Its most precious quality will remain its having run itself and carried away the poet with it. Read it a hundred times: it will forever keep its freshness as a metal keeps its fragrance. It can never lose its sense of a meaning that once unfolded by surprise as it went.”

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