An Advent of Applause

An Advent of Applause

Mouths of melting mist sing out of silence
without breeze,
hide from the neighbouring fields their veils
of trees.

These days are Advent sweet,
eaten in a chocolate coin of days,
pine dressed bright to shine their many ways
as sharp till bells are ringing.

Catalogues fall down on worn out mats,
carolers pull down their wool of hats,
woods whisper out a welcome
through a car park halo’s shining.

And the hall is full to watch
the medley of musicians come,
raising up a chorus from the hum
of early Christmas voices.

Gods of the Hearth rejoice. In every candle flame
a toast is raised, a flickering of fame
spurts in and out upon the breath of people
who are singing.

We come to deck the halls
with evergreen, good humour and applause,
with clapping and with laughter,
then a pause.

And in our pause

we offer all
that we are really
meaning.

Julie Boden
(Written for Moxhull Hall Folk Club, 2002)

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