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A Magical Christmas at Euston Station, by Guy Fletcher

27/12/2017

It is an eerie scene at Euston Station:
no trains carrying weary commuters
and all shops with shutters down.
But this Christmas Day a magical scene unfolds,
businesses and charities
have ensured that at this symbolic time
the homeless can forget despair and grime

for tables have replaced countless footsteps
and a Christmas meal provided
together with free sleeping bags and thermal clothes.
Perhaps Jesus, watching from the flickering stars
feels there's still hope for humanity
and this brief respite from a life so hard
deserves to grace many a Christmas card.

Morning Fog, by John Grey

22/12/2017

The sky is clear somewhere up there
but the shoreline doesn’t know it,
not with that hugging morning fog,
puffing like second breath
inches from my nostrils.

The weather’s like an anchor
that only the sun can lift,
but it prefers to have us mist-bound,
wandering the streets like flotsam,
air unsteady in all directions.

Nets hang over the sides of boats
but here is a net of a different kind.
It’s cast upon the human bailiwick.
It holds assumptions captive.

Skeleton 22, by Guy Fletcher

18/12/2017

They have woken a Scottish soldier
back from the tomb after centuries.
His face has been reconstructed
showing a young red-head, prisoner of war,
marched by the English to Durham Cathedral
to perish in the cold and damp far
from family and the fields of Dunbar

naming him Skeleton 22,
not the most romantic of titles.
DNA discovered poor nutrition
and his eyes stare sadly under a blue cap.
Perhaps he peers down from the stars
long since the Angel of Death came to call
thinking there's little resemblance at all!

Snow In The Suburbs, by Guy Fletcher

11/12/2017

Early morning snow in the suburbs,
a dusting but enough to thrill the soul
after years of abstinence.
Barren branches boast pristine white coats
and a child looks excitedly through the window
but although they'll be no snowball fights today
freezing Arctic winds have now blown this way.

The sunrise paints the horizon with gold
before the colour fades like a fallen rose
and the snow drips and drops with tears
from the fingers of the sumac tree
as a magpie glides across the grass.
This transient beauty will not last
but I breathe its glory...before it's past.

City On Fire, by Guy Fletcher

6/12/2017

The sun is falling from the sky
and it's as if the city is on fire,
clouds like flames behind Cardiff Castle
on a cold and crisp blue December day
but soon the clouds will return to grey

replaced by Christmas lights and illuminated reindeer.
The sky is certainly an alluring sight
yet ignored by some bag-laden passers by
as I pause for a while and just admire
and it's as if the city...is on fire.

​A Magical Christmas at Euston Station, by Guy Fletcher

Morning Fog, by John Grey

Skeleton 22, by Guy Fletcher

Snow In The Suburbs, by Guy Fletcher

City On Fire, by Guy Fletcher

Poetry

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A Magical Christmas at Euston Station, by Guy Fletcher