Dark jelly

It’s snowing outside,

but all I can think of

is dark jelly.

Somewhere,

a snowflake spins,

settles,

sugar-coats the nose

of a lonely old gnome.

His lake a cracked mirror,

his fish all long gone,

he rises,

knees creaking,

teetering on toadstool,

fishing rod poised,

orchestrating,

quite brilliantly,

the swirling snow,

summoning visions of

abominable snowmen;

white velvet queens

in white velvet sleighs;

polar bears prowling

through cotton wool waves;

a flurry of foxes

chasing their tails,

lost in the veils

of ice maidens dancing

a wintery waltz.

But through frosted panes

I see nothing.

It’s snowing outside,

and all I can think of

is dark jelly.