Tag: poetry

Christmas By Light

If I could be any house
I’d be the Christmas house
on my corner, a beacon
that comes out once a year
to show people the way home.
I’d cover myself in fairy lights.
I’d wrap my feet in shiny paper.
I’d pinch my nose till it was glowing.
I’d dream of summer snow.
And I’d be Christmas for all of you,
I’d be Christmas right up to the moon.
And the blush of light would hold us
like a snowglobe in somebody’s palm
and all around our huddled forms
would be a trembling, sparkling calm.
And when the decorations were packed away
I would keep shining in the dark.
Lighting up the hopes of those who pass,
showing those hopes for what they are:
the fairy lights of the heart.

–Sarah Stanton

An Edwardian townhouse lit up with fairy lights. The shape and windows of the house are bordered in lights, two large wreaths are illuminated below the windows, the trees surrounding the house are also lit up in lights, a large ballerina is lit up with blue lights in the first floor window, and the garage door is wrapped with shiny red wrapping paper.

Leaves And Bees And Hope

Four walls deep in the world I lie
A wildling from a wilder time,
The thought of it is how I cope:
All covered in leaves and bees and hope.

Four miles deep in the woods I walked
And listened to all the birdlings talk,
A sparrow telling its friends a joke
All covered in leaves and bees and hope.

And when I came out of the woods,
I did not think of cans or shoulds,
I thought of how the froglings croak
All covered in leaves and bees and hope.

And when I had to go to bed
I kept the woods inside my head,
A seedling–no, an envelope–
All covered in leaves and bees and hope.

Now four walls deep in the world I cease
A wildling wrestled down to peace,
I think of lovely things to cope:
All covered in leaves and bees and hope.

–Sarah Stanton

(This piece plopped out of me after I described a dress I own as “covered in leaves and bees and hope.” I thought about all the time I spent out in nature as a kid, and how much I miss being part of that world now I’m bedbound. But it’s not like it’s gone–it’s still there, in my head. And even though I miss the experience, it’s the memories that keep me going.)