Stark monochrome: black trees, white snow,
Gray skies above, dark ice below.
A freeze-frame landscape, time stood still
‘cross patchwork fields pervasive chill.
Laid in the hearth, upon the grate,
The source of Yuletide warmth awaits
Its kindling, when the flames will dance,
Bright heralds of the sun’s advance.
When rising at the turn of year,
Blood red! sun’s light comes running clear
With warmth as if from sacrifice
‘t were spilled to flood across the ice.
And here like frozen drops of blood
Are holly berries from the wood,
Nestled amid the leaves’ dark green,
Reflected by the lustrous sheen.