It’s Never Too Soon For Christmas?

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As winter lies across the base
With its icy tentacles of frosty lace
Above on the trunk of the big tree towers
Across the land now bereft of flowers,
Still squirrels scurry up and down
To hidden nests buried underground.
 
Nuts are stored as winter food
As animals run, the winter to elude.
 
Up high in the sky
Dancing to delight the eye
Starlings swirl in synchronised flight
Signalling autumn fading from sight.
 
On winter’s wind blows the cold
That strips the skin from the old
But winter also brings the bliss
Of mistletoe and a stolen kiss.
 
 
Puddings laced with brandy or rum
Steaming to fill that hungry tum.
Roaring fires where muffins toast
And spitting chestnuts that are split to roast
Are all part of the Christmas feast,
But remember the thing that should be forgotten least.
 
Christmas is not measured by a shopping chart,
Christmas lives within a kindly heart.
 
© 2015, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.
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About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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