CHRISTMAS WEEK - Sunday Before...

There really is nothing more beautiful than Christmas in the snow in the country, maybe not too far and not too near the lights and clamour... just enough to be nestled away with clear night skies, fresh snow and wonderful smells from the kitchen. These days, this can sometimes be a fairy tale for many and an experience you can actually buy for others, but sometimes you get lucky and circumstance and good fortune can be the best gifts of all. 


Here are three vignettes, all based on real experiences in Montreal, Elora (Ontario), and Vancouver Island... sugary little confections best with a warm coffee before or after the mad dash into the Sunday before Christmas.


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Every Star Says Hello There's a snowflake on my tongue because God has dropped the bucket and everything is going white today Are we all angels Cross our hearts and pray Spread our wings in the fallen snow Kick the powder high in the air Can everyone come out to play? In the heart of December In the soul of Montreal Here we are Arms spread out Hands raised high Is it a sin to laugh Is it a sin to kiss In the halos of orange street lights In the eternal twilight Of suddenly evening They shook out the branches and we fell in love, our hearts melting And every star says hello when you look up

© 2002, Ralph Alfonso 




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Angels Stop For Flowers In Elora (A Christmas Poem) This is the world's most perfect little country town, I'm sitting down with your family and we're all gathered round the big oak table at the back of your mother's antiques store, rosy-cheeked from the snapping flames and here is Christmas dinner with all the trimmings and a big old tree from down the road wrapped up in spangles and lights and wooden soldiers hanging on guard and all the duck decoys, old wagon wheels, every kind of dried flower, every Norman Rockwell accessory casting shadows, and sleepy carols whispered from a radio made before I was born, and that's old, baby and you can hear that winter wind howling up from Elora Gorge, having fun and kicking up the snow so we can't leave, and who would want to, anyway, and when we've all gone to bed and I'm looking up at the stars through the attic window, huddled up in this sleeping bag, with you asleep by my side, I figure if there ever was a time to be in love, it was now

© 1998, Ralph Alfonso 


Nice memories of a Christmas long past. Elora is a wonderful small town in Ontario, Canada, not far from Guelph and close to Fergus (famous Fergus market). This particular antique store is long gone. One of my favourite poems.


In December, 2003, in Columbus, Ohio, Christina Connor read this poem as part of an event called Christmas at 2Co's Cabaret. I discovered this news on the net and the review of her reading is described as "serene yet sensual".  


http://www.nakedsunfish.com/SunFish_017/main.htm


No other info on Ms. Connor can be found anywhere except for a small photo here; with news that this Cabaret company closed in 2006.


http://www.shortnorth.com/2Co'sClosing.html


Well, Christina Connor, wherever you are - thank you.




This is not the store I wrote about but hey, they're in Elora and have a video on YouTube...
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CHRISTMAS EVE, VANCOUVER ISLAND


The cat curling up against your leg
a log crackling in the fireplace,
and John Coltrane is sweet on the little
record player we got
to keep us company,
it's Christmas Eve
in Tofino and the waves are rising and crashing
in the pitch black, lit only by the
smiles of angels on their way to
touch maybe our hearts, maybe
your cynical angry heart if you're
reading this or maybe you can
throw this piece of paper away so
someone else can find it,
the big bowls of of
coffee are steaming up the windows
there's always a nice smell to good coffee
and we always talk a long time
on a night like this
and maybe it's funny or
maybe it's something
I would never have dared ever
say before, but it's always
something that makes us hug
each other more and it's
midnight, baby, the candles
are one inch away from nowhere
I'm sure I heard a sound on the roof,
yeah, you can laugh, but
why is the cat looking up there, too?


(c) Ralph Alfonso


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