TW: None
As temperature drop,
As leaves depart from their trees,
Leaving them barren,
Except a select few.
The sun's rays suddenly become less warm,
less comforting,
Being obscured more often than not by pewter clouds,
Swarming the remaining light.
As the season changes from autumn to winter,
People start to wrap up warmer than the previous season,
Using more woolly scarfs, hats,
And even woolly gloves.
Within this cold season,
Is a holiday beloved by many,
One that children and adults alike look forward to,
One filled with homemade food and presents.
On this holiday,
An evergreen tree is put up,
Decorated with glass or plastic decorations,
Of varying colours and shapes,
It gives the tree more life,
Making it appear more appealing,
Making it appear more magical.
On this holiday,
Biscuits, cakes and sweet treats are baked,
Some are left under or near a chimney,
So the children may hope the deliverer of presents may eat them,
Proving, or disproving his existence to them.
Is he real, or simply a tale made up by parents,
In order for the children to behave,
So they may receive presents on that special day.
For some, however,
This holiday may be one of love,
One where couples spend time together
One where they may exchange presents with each other,
One where, hand in hand,
They admire the festive lights.
As this holiday passes,
The temperatures drop even further,
Soon, droplets of rain turn to something else,
Something that is also beloved by many.
Small specs of white fall,
They fall, sometimes in few numbers,
Other times in a flurry,
Finding their place on the ground,
Giving the world a white blanket,
Making it look pure, innocent.
As a couple months pass,
We come to another holiday within this season,
A smaller one compared to the last,
Only lasting a day,
One that is reserved for love and love alone.
On this day,
Couples spent time together,
Buy chocolates for each other,
Sometimes presents as well,
As they enjoy each other's company,
For some though,
They do not have a partner,
However, despite this,
They still treat themselves,
As self-love is a form of love as well.
When the snow slowly begins to melt,
The trees once again become barren,
Ready for the next season to come,
So they may receive their greenery once more.
YOU ARE READING
Like Petals Under a Tree
Poetry"My thoughts fall and gather on a page, like that of petals under a tree." A collection of poems, of varying lengths and genres. Each poem has it's own theme, and the words string together to convey that theme and the meaning blooms. Cover designed...
