25/12/2025
Winter Hold
Winter folds the nursery tight,
Tucks it in with early night.
Doors are closed, the kettle still,
Frost rests soft upon the sill.
Wooden floors remember feet,
Tiny paths where heartbeats meet.
Tables keep each handprint warm,
Pressed like seeds before the storm.
Stories sleep in wool and pine,
Curled in hush and evergreen time.
Toys lie low, their journeys done,
Dreaming of the coming sun.
Every laugh from days gone by
Drifts like breath in winter sky.
Nothing lost and nothing gone,
Only resting, moving on.
Like little figures laid to dream,
Wrapped in green and quiet gleam,
The nursery breathes slow and deep,
Held in trust, allowed to sleep.
This year hums in gentle rhyme,
Echoed through the wood and time.
Footsteps fade but do not cease
They wait in winter’s patient peace.
For soon the thaw will knock the door,
And echoes wake the rooms once more.
Steps turn light and voices rise,
Spring held bright in laughing eyes.
Hand-led care and hearts made wide,
Little ones at home inside.
Till then the circle holds its grace
Winter keeps this sacred space.
