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  • Writer's pictureClaire Champion

Festive Greetings - Part 1

It’s that time of year again and so I wish you all festive greetings. I’ve had a two-month hiatus from posting any new creative content. What can I tell you, it’s been a hectic and extremely fast transition from autumn to winter. That’s not to say I’ve neglected my writing, but I must admit to you dear readers, I have found the old enemy “writer’s block” has been coming and going. Not to worry, I’ve put it out of my mind now and just got on with a new poem. I’ve also been taking lots of photos. The inspiration for the former is my fondness for our furry friends, squirrels. The result of the latter activity will be displayed on my gallery page in a few days.

As always please sit back, maybe with a hot chocolate or other drink of your choice, relax and read on. And as ever, feel free to leave me a comment about my writing and also let me know any nature notes you’ve observed this season.

Merry Christmas and happy new reading!


Squirrel Tales

I spied the squirrels as they scampered,

through the parks and public gardens,

searching for the next nut or seed.

One such Grey flitted with excited fervour,

an endless flow of energy and fur.

Mesmerising me on my morning stroll.

I continued my perusal of its

activities and antics, transfixed.

Taking note of the silky grace.

The yew trees took on the backdrop

of the squirrel’s playground:

one of adventure and acrobatics.

In another space, another town,

I stared up at a cheeky visitor

who had skilfully scaled a window.

The structure in question:

my mother’s patio door,

complete with passionflower foliage.

I gathered my mother and husband,

where we all watched, wondered at

this sight of a squirrel playing.

It brought a collective grin, a question

about the furry one’s prowess.

How did it cling on so long?

Mysteries abound, as the rodent

promptly leapt away to the fence,

making its escape into the winter chill.

I wished then I had a camera

to capture the fleeting moment.

But it’s still imprinted on my brain.

The finale of this tale is pure heart-warmth,

a scene magical and simple in

the making and the memory.

A bold squirrel appeared by the yew

next to a Hampshire church, while

me and my husband walked close by.

We noted its nibbling and nestling,

storing some sustenance for colder

times and hostile climes.

Surprised by the creature’s calm,

our presence not bothering it all,

we stood enthralled and charmed.

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