A Festive Season.

Fading Violas crinkle their leaves,
December’s yellow Rose absent citron syrup.
A flame of Poppies hang heads 
like half licked strawberry lollies. 
The gleaming shape of a Snowman,
dead white, scarf tight, stands...
listening to whispering moonbeams.

A Winter’s Eve, dull, drab with dripping Mulberry mists,
leafless, trees tinkle like copper.
The Moon stares, naked in snow-ignited sky.
White stars gleam upon icy, redheaded Holly bushes,
smothering them with silver strands,
as frosty Cedars glimmer their jealousy.

Snowdrop caps embroidered with Myrtle,
a snowy gown made from flake-lace,
clothe a thousand Winter Jasmine,
who pose through their sheet of Royal icing.
Stars of snow take refuge beneath kind petals of late-flush Roses,
their buds burst into alabaster flares.
Arctic arms clasp Mother Nature,
weaving frost-beams to glimmer the Festive season.