(An English Sonnet with a Seasonal message)
What is it that our childhood dreams foretell?
Illusion, which reality belies:
Enthralling images that make hearts swell
Of snowmen, carrot noses, coal for eyes,
The carol singers, Santa hats, mulled wine,
With children dancing, reindeer prancing by.
Through frosted panes a silver moon will shine
On message-bringing angels in the sky.
Now atmospheric change, a warmer earth,
The season, skewed, turned reason on its head;
Made creatures in the autumn – full of mirth,
Renewing springtime vows – build nests instead.
So what warm secret does our future hold?
A promise of the coming… Christmas gold.
(Read the author’s commentary on this poem)