Dec 2024
AND THE WORLD WAS AS SIMPLE AS SNOW
You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell
and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful
to sell
stacked
in impossible & impeccable
order.
All yelling
shining
glinting
wild & glassy.
And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again
into a world
excited with the falling of snow
& the palpable approach
of a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas
and the world
was as simple as snow.
*
I used to save up all my little pennies throughout the whole year to get my Ma "4711" and me Da "Old Spice." These were their perpetual presents but they always pretended surprise. Then there would be the trek through falling snow to enter this magical store and to have it assault one's senses and zing all around you. I can still feel my hand in my big sister's hand...our footsteps echoing into the long long ago. This little scrap of remembrance is a little treasure that I hoard...real emotional treasure more gorgeous than gold.
Pennies meant that all during summer i would forgoe ice pops when all others would be licking theirs and I would be gasping for them. Every penny save was one step nearer that magical experience of being able to buy for them and their lovely lovely faces lighting up like they was little kids. I felt very adult then and it was worth it....seeing them see my presents was the best Christmas present I could get and it was hard earned a penny at a time.
I wanted a love poem that simply didn't say the ordinary I love you but pinned it on a feeling that totally enraptured me. "You are like...." and then we depart to the regions of a feeling that still shines as brightly for me as it did then.
You are like all
the dark shops of my childhood
where you enter
with the little ****** of a bell
and the world blossoms
into a myriad of things colourful
to sell
stacked
in impossible & impeccable
order.
All yelling
shining
glinting
wild & glassy.
And the cash register singing
with the hard earned money
and the little ****** of a bell
lets you out again
into a world
excited with the falling of snow
& the palpable approach
of a Christmas when Christmas was Christmas
and the world
was as simple as snow.
*
I used to save up all my little pennies throughout the whole year to get my Ma "4711" and me Da "Old Spice." These were their perpetual presents but they always pretended surprise. Then there would be the trek through falling snow to enter this magical store and to have it assault one's senses and zing all around you. I can still feel my hand in my big sister's hand...our footsteps echoing into the long long ago. This little scrap of remembrance is a little treasure that I hoard...real emotional treasure more gorgeous than gold.
Pennies meant that all during summer i would forgoe ice pops when all others would be licking theirs and I would be gasping for them. Every penny save was one step nearer that magical experience of being able to buy for them and their lovely lovely faces lighting up like they was little kids. I felt very adult then and it was worth it....seeing them see my presents was the best Christmas present I could get and it was hard earned a penny at a time.
I wanted a love poem that simply didn't say the ordinary I love you but pinned it on a feeling that totally enraptured me. "You are like...." and then we depart to the regions of a feeling that still shines as brightly for me as it did then.
