Breathtakingly beautiful Elms and Oaks make majestic lines across immaculate fields, with each branch caressed by white. In the pristine of whiteout, whooping ribboning black tracks of sleds animate the slopes of the North Downs.
Smiling wobbly-headed snow people stand guard beside us in the traffic jams on the M25. Enchanted forests straight out of a fairy tale, beckon and I want to stroll there and follow my own footprints home.
One of my poems, Treasure, appears here today.
Thank you to Gordon at Catapult to Mars for choosing my piece.