This month’s festive mini-project invited us to either…
- Create a found poem from the festive fragments below (the example poem above includes lines from O. Henry, Carol Carnac, E. T. A. Hoffmann, and Jennifer Chiaverini).
- Write a 260-word Christmas tale, inspired by and incorporating one of our starter sentences.
And the next day would be Christmas,
a world lovely as a fairy tale.
Translucent marzipan castles
with larders stocked (fudge and peppermint).
Set the bird on the hearth,
and greet as friends
strangers –
those who have never been so hungry,
or so cold.
Wishes for Santa Claus
The shops were fully stocked with fudge and peppermint, sparkling Christmas forests and translucent Marzipan castles. Parents and children navigated towers of treats as assistants wrapped their sugar-charms in boxes, with a bow, ready to be tucked under a tree. From the street, festoons of holly and mistletoe framed each scene, the light softened in the windows by steams of sweet smells and warm cheeks within. He glanced for a moment at each display, wrapped his scarf more securely about his neck, and stepped back into the cold.
—
The girls were at the table in thick woollen jumpers, decorating their letters to Santa and scrabbling for stick-on stars and felt-tip pens – the most valuable commodity always that in the other’s hand. He sat his cap on the hall stand, and his coat, and moved through to his chair in the corner, kissing each on the top of their head as he went, and taking a handful of logs to light the fire.
“What should we ask for?”
“Whatever you like.”
“But what if it’s too big?”
“Nothing’s too big for Santa!”
The kindling took in the grate and the flames rose gently, a small twist of smoke curling up into the chimney.
—
He heard the bedroom door close above him and the light click off. He moved to the table and unpicked the envelopes, unfolding the letters within and sitting with them for a moment.
He traced his finger over a stick-drawn woman with pink daisies woven through her hair.
He stoked the flame. Sent their wishes to Santa Claus.
2 Fragments
I.
sore-footed,
we come to
this small and drifting planet.
I want to knit a pair of stockings for each
lost child travelling in the snow.
II.
where are the geese?
above a snowfield unknowing of footprints,
white and endless.
frozen in a blink of
the wide blue eye of sky.
Types of Magic
Not all magic is fireworks and fanfare. Sometimes magic is quiet and sneaks up on you; and winter magic is the quietest and sneakiest sort.
Summer magic, for example, is loud. It’s in-your-face. “Here’s a pole and a flower crown, dance for rain or we all starve.” Tactful. Spring isn’t much subtler. The season of renewal and rebirth drenched in sacrificial overtones – and that was even before that really famous resurrection.
Winter magic is nothing like that. Winter magic is quiet. Like undisturbed snow. So quiet that on particularly dark and cold nights, where frigid rain stings your cheeks, you can easily convince yourself there’s none. Just gloom and misery until the lambs come in Spring.
But it is not so. There is magic at play. Small incantations, simple desires. It’s how a candle burns twice as bright and warm against the cold and dark. It’s how every gathering of friends is twice as sweet.
Without boast or brag, Winter’s magic keeps you going. It is quiet magic because one incantation dominates the rest.
“I wish Spring will come?”
From that incantation, Winter’s true role is revealed: To carry the world from one year to the next.
Spring might be the season of renewal but Winter is it’s gateway. It holds back yesterday with stone walls and through icy doors and cover of darkness it brings tomorrow. All without fuss. So when the light returns and the life Winter has so carefully preserved awakens, they will flourish in the new year in a new Spring. Until the cycle repeats again.
a veil covers the unseen world;
chimneys throw out smoke into
the year’s loneliest night.
tiny icicles sparkle in the middle of the wood:
electric points
in the dark hollow of His hand.
– Max Parfitt, Chloe Green, and Harry Ashton-Key