Merry Christmas, a poem by Sneha Mondal at Spillwords.com
Mourad Saadi

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

written by: Sneha Mondal

 

The pleasures of nightfall
Begin to fire up themselves
With their yellow-green-orange
Trinkets, as I can see them
Thousands of li’l dots sparkling
Deeply, playing hide and seek.
Slowly blooming rich, the big shrines
Of prayer, Cities, countries, and hearts.

The hanging lanterns on
The small porch of my cottage
Wiping out all of my inky shades.
Look at distant cottages and tiny huts
Scented of Christmas trees,
Solemn hot oatmeal, fresh buttery fudge,
Sweetened crimson and grey candy canes,
Evergreen shrubs with white lollies
And Christmassy pine with sugary-suave
Aroma of Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

The gentle blossoms of December
Seize my ghost and yours,
I, sitting on my brown chesterfield
In dusky, hollow makeup
With three vacant glasses
Stains sticking of booze and touching
Of my favorite woolen blanket embrace.

I, looking out the frosted flowers –
Window squares, in front of
Old-fashioned wood burning,
Twirling and whirling in the breeze.
The yellowwood tree and glittering chandeliers.
I keep still, waiting for your warm lock, my Baby!

I’d buzz for you,
The Silent Night, Blue Christmas
And the Joy to the world!
To foster the powder crystals, bring
Cherry Christmas through your warm skin.
Santa Claus ain’t make me delightful
With trinkets and small sparkling boxes
At the foot of that lifeless white pine.
I neglect them, the presents underneath.
All I want for Christmas are
Your big arms clasp tightly around me,
Your chocolate eyes with shining stars,
Long and dark curved eyelashes
Of gold and velvet tinsels and whenever
You blink, I could perceive
A “Merry Christmas!”

Looking out the casement,
My eyes tossing with a guardian angel,
As the stars like garlands shimmer-
You look at me and grin
Like a snowman, at this moment
Two drowning frames lost in
The snowstorm enjoying at
Night deep, the hearts pumping
Strong and loud.
The fireplace and the fire balloons
A-glowing, my lips drifting
In yours under the mistletoe
You, paint poetry on my neck
With soft lips and that is,
“Baby! All I want is you for
The Christmas, you make it feel like
A Merry Merry Christmas!”

Latest posts by Sneha Mondal (see all)