Leaving A Quayside Bar At Christmas…
(from Gill Jansen’s painting…)
Woodsmoke.
Stone fireplace.
Crackling logs, their damp spitting ire at flames indiscreetly.
Warmth
Glows on my face.
Mulled wine, spicy and solemn, savoured sweetly.
Cheer.
Atmospheric, soulful.
Gentle jazz, though barely audible, oddly reassuring.
Charm
Appeases the doleful.
Mince-pie oozes with hot brandy sauce, alluring.
Open door.
Wind coils.
Shivering legs, wrapped by harsh winter, callously.
Overt
Mind toils.
Melancholy eases at friendly smiles, offered casually…
The exit.
Harbour scene.
Falling snow glitters upon grim sky for Yuletide.
Two vessels.
Moored, serene.
Joy apparent on board and at the quayside…
And then I knew the goodwill,
The season and its real meaning;
The inn had lulled my racing mind to still,
Its warmth, its wine and cheer intervening…
And then I heard distant carols haunt
In wondrous harmony the snowy anchorage,
Whereupon my demons ceased to taunt
And peace prevailed within Cornwall’s heritage…
Pete Ray
18th December 2020
Looking at the painting, I envisaged leaving a quayside hostelry, in which the Christmas spirit had somehow healed a troubled mind.
Then, seeing the beauty of the snowy harbour and hearing distant carols being sung, peace was found…
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