Friday, November 28, 2014


The night falls thick and soft as heaven’s feather-down duvet
Decks every hill and croft where dull November tatters lay
The landscape boasts a host of marshmallow-like infantry
Where once upon an afternoon green bushes used to be
…the silent night is silver white; I cannot bear to snore
While under the influence of quadrillion stars or more

Is there a fount in Heaven that spills diamonds just for fun?
Earth is the grand recipient of heaven’s over-run
And we within the thunder of plush plunder feel like kings
Forgetting in its wonder small and unimportant things
Where angel-feathers fall and we feel almost fit to fly
Within this whirling, swirling magi-furling from the sky

The silence of this stilly night echoes of centuries
And almost we can hear the waft of bells upon the breeze
Then, almost I’m persuaded to wait lest perchance Heaven
Is spilling angels singing ‘peace on earth, goodwill to men’
Where just this afternoon hills shivered in thread-bare brown-gray
Before glad tidings wrapped them in a feather-down duvet

© Janet Martin

When I picked Matt up at work around six-o-clock this evening snow was falling in a thick feather-frenzy. At midnight, after Matt's hockey game the night is a hushed, plush pillow on a downy duvet.


  1. "Almost fit to fly" - a magic phrase.. Time for Christmas music!

  2. ah yes! What are your fav's? We like it all but right now Michael Buble's Christmas album is a family favorite.


Thank you for your visit to this porch. Any thoughts you would like to share?