Tartan Legs In Winter. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

The grey skies tinged with hues of pink, breathes out as it unfolds
And a flurry of the softest white makes young a heart so old
Magically it conjures up, times that we thought lost
When dreams were real and came to life, amidst past Christmas frost,
Rosy cheeks, hats and scarves, playing snowball fights
When constant laughing filled the air on cold December nights
Sitting by an open fire, huddled side by side
A hot drink and some well fired toast, to warm you up inside.
Your mind is like your cheery face on which you couldn’t put a price
And you forget the pain the chilblains bring from playing on the ice
Your face is burnt and tartan legs are itching from the heat
You want to move but you’ll lose your seat when someone steals your seat.
You watch the flames flickering fast, the coals are burning bright
But there’s no place that you’d rather be on this bitter winter’s night.
The family’s cooried round the fire but not a word’s being said
But in their minds, a million thoughts, are rushing through their heads
These memories come back to life and all because of snow.