The red squirrel froze, scared of the whispers on the wind People walk the park, their collars turned against the cold Finding it hard to settle No time to stroke a passing dog The mind finding it impossible to compete with redundant thoughts Pedal on, don’t complain, keep yourself fit Something awesome may be around the corner No time to be sad when faced with those Christmas mince pies Family on the way, carrying Christmas greetings Smiles to warm the coldest night… © AnitaDawes 2021
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I always did like a mince pie. Back when there was more of my family, my mother always made mince and pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. My dad is long gone and my mother doesn’t care too much for cooking these days. My brother lives in Arizona and my son and I live 125 miles from my mother. My son can’t abide mince pie, and I’m not going to make an entire pie for myself. So I will fondly remember mince pie as I read this poem!
Pity we can’t send you some, Naughty!
Beautiful! Have a nice day! xx Michael
Thanks Michael…
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