Bhavya Anand
Heat of an oven on a cold day,
I sit near the fireplace watching ‘em flames play!
The more I soften in those blaze the more grows the darkness,
Oh! That smell of freshly baked cookies and hot chocolate topped with broiled marshmallows, fills me up with serene warmness.
As I get into my fury blanket full of sugarplum and coziness my unicorn tells me about their vivacious lives up high,
all sparkling pink and purple in the lilac sky.
“O Honey!” Mom exclaimed. I know it is early but it’s time for bed,
as through the snow in the sledge, soon will be here your lissome gift wrapped all in red.
As I come back from ecstatic dream with hazy sight,
I look at the corner and there’s the box, reserving my crippled and dusted fairy light.
With a swing of breeze as glacial as frozen marrow,
my consciousness narrates that why long gone childhood would always remain mellow.