The aura of Christmas is suspended in the air;
the nip of the cold, the trees almost bare,
the smoke from the chimneys, the stocks in the stores.
Yes, all the signs point to that time we all wait for.
There are packs of festive biscuits and carols on repeat,
the streets decked out in fairy lights for a fabulous visual treat.
Fir trees wait for families to rehome them, with delight,
covering them with baubles, tinsel and coloured lights.
There are smiles on people’s faces as they meet friends in town,
catching up on everything since they last saw them around.
And children write the lists that they will send to Santa’s den
and with that you know that Christmas is about to come again!
The Aura of Christmas is a short poem by Ms Moem. Ⓒ
