BOXING DAY POEM (2)
I write a poem most days of the year.
But Christmas Day is a day when,
this year, as in most years, I haven’t
a moment to spare in which to write
a poem; my head not spinning
with poems, not even a book of poems
given me for Christmas this year.
But oh, how very precious the day
and the gifts I received from
family and friends. Photographs;
one of a proud grandson
holding a whopper trout,
which, having no camera
to hand at the time, he
rushed madly (a two-hour drive)
into town for his mate to photograph.
And then another photograph
of two happy and delightful
great-grandchildren at school earlier
in the year. I received a tiny, tiny
spinning top with a smiley face.
Yes, that will be fun to spin and muse upon
when in need of inspiration. And Brie,
(love my kai) another gift on the menu.
Small packets of shortbread and cherries.
Some nickers, (certainly handy).
A fashionable, go-anywhere, top.
And then: I wish you could see it,
smell it, hold it, marvel at it as I am
holding now, a flax kete skillfully crafted
by a loved one. Plus woven flax earrings;
how special is that? The wonderful time,
the family together; the sun (unexpectedly)
coming out. The kai and the kai, and the kai:
and the clean-up.
That was my Christmas Day
and this is my Boxing Day poem number 2.
Just doing a catch-up, the two days;
two poems could not be more different, and
the third poem again something like this
a basket of goodies.
Benita H. Kape © 26.12.2018
* kai = food
* kete = basket