christmas in the capital

Icing-sugar snow falls thickly from the sky,

Giving London a fresh coat of brilliant white.

Perfectly formed crystals are crushed underfoot,

As people traipse around for last minute gifts.

Traditional Christmas scenes are brought vividly to life,

With snow-capped post boxes and dimly lit lanterns.

The radiant red of an old Routemaster bus

Stands out like the cherry on an iced fairy cake.

Side streets are turned into ready-made rinks,

That shimmer like an over-glittered Christmas card,

While the main roads become mud baths;

Churned up into a chocolatey-coloured slush.

In Holland Park, the playing field is inhabited

With smiley-faced snowmen and small dogs:

That scurry about in self-made blizzards.

Deeper in, the snow falls softly, silently;

And but for some far-off squeals, it’s still and serene.

Pine trees are piled thick with fallen flakes,

A brave duck swims in a partially frozen pond.

And in this, the second snowfall of the season,

It really is like walking in a winter wonderland.


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