A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

Name:
Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Wednesday 14 December 2011

The Dancing Snowmen


Today’s post appears on both blogs. After all, weren’t we all children once, we adults who should be pulling together to make the world a kinder, safer, better place for children everywhere?

Now, they say we discard the whimsy and magic of childhood once we grow up and start making our way in the real world.

Oh, yes? And what do ‘they’ know...?


(Image from the Internet)

THE DANCING SNOWMEN

I was rudely awakened 
one Christmas Eve by the rapid beating
of my heart and a tugging
at one frayed, striped pyjama sleeve,
but there was no one there,
no one at all, and then I heard someone
calling my name, ran to the window
and looked up into the sky
where snow was falling, moon blinking
between cotton wool clouds,
but no sign of Santa
so it couldn’t have been him getting
up to his old tricks

I looked down on the garden,
could not believe my eyes, the snowmen
dancing there, carrot noses
like the glow of old coal fires, chestnuts
where eyes should be,
lips reminding me of scarlet ribbons
I first heard tell of in a song
played on the radio only yesterday,
while on their heads
the snowmen wore hats of all shapes
and sizes, the sort
found in an attic. Me, I was already
lost in the magic

I shinned down a drainpipe,
didn’t feel cold at all, soon jigging away
at the Snowmen’s Ball,
a passing owl hooting its approval,
Man in the Moon
showing his face now and then, torchlight
in a steady, sleety rain,
looking for Santa, last seen heading...
(could be for my room)
so I’m saying goodbye to my new friends
returning, oh, so quickly
to where everyone’s favourite story ends
and its magic begins

Where childhood innocence dead and gone,
the dancing snowmen live on...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011


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