Essence of the Holidays
Where Hands and Memories Gather
The bucket list lingers,
a promise half-spun,
Like whispers of frost
on glass touched by sun.
The air hums with woodsmoke,
a faint, sweet balm,
As dusk wraps the world
in a blanket of calm.
Wheels murmur on roads,
suitcases in tow,
Bound for tables
where faces will glow.
The wind nudges softly,
a breath on the pane,
Its chill held at bay
by the fire's warm reign.
Some voices bloom softly
through miles on a call,
Their laughter a bridge,
invisible yet tall.
Others sit quiet,
their solitude known,
Yet cradled by memories
they claim as their own.
Photos lie still,
smiles frozen mid-beam,
Lanterns of light
from a half-waking dream.
Some faces are absent,
yet linger in sound,
In the clink of the glasses,
in joy all around.
And here, hands gather
—old palms, new and small,
Reaching for dishes,
for stories, for all.
Eyes meet like candles,
their flickering bright,
Binding the room
in a soft, golden light.
In this fleeting embrace,
we know we belong
— A chorus of hearts,
a once-lost song.
Love spills like fire,
both tender and bold,
Wrapping us close
as the year grows cold.
About the Creator
Ivoni Anna
As a writer hailing from London with a touch of Greek flavor, I am constantly enchanted by the siren call of the written word. My passion for putting pen to paper is so powerful, it keeps me up at night and I wouldn't have it any other way.
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