In 2014 I moved from New Zealand to London, for what I thought would be a year... two MAX. Nearly three years down the track I'm still in London and with no plan on leaving any time soon! My first Christmas away from home I spent with four girlfriends and it was a lot of fun! Back in 2014 I wrote a poem to mark the occasion. Here it is.
Family means everything this time of year, I miss them so much as Christmas comes near.
Thinking of home where the sun is hot, summer is there,
but here it is not.
Every Christmas we eat outside in the heat,
sipping on beer,
in togs and bare feet.
Swimming is a must on Christmas day, a kind of tradition that most kiwis play.
Bike riding down by the Arrowtown river, thinking of home, in bed I shiver.
Waking to darkness.
The days are grey.
Returning to darkness at the end of the day.
The nights are long, yet sleep is brief.
To close your eyes is such relief.
From working all day, cold through to the bone. I put on the one woolly jumper I own.
Externally cold but internally warm.
Watching the people,
the places transform.
Santa Claus features on most attire. A jumper of which I must acquire.
London at Christmas- it’s like a story come true,
and I’m actually living it. If only you knew…
How beautiful it is, the lights in the street
and the crazy, jolly old people you meet.
Carols are sung in stations around, and smiles on faces are easily found.
Even the man who sits on the street,
with his hat turned up, showing his very cold feet
Shouts out -Merry Christmas,
and asks for a pound,
to help him relocate for the day from the ground.
There’s joy in the air, despite the weather
everyone seems to come together.
Strangers exchange smiles and offer their seat,
to the man on the train who has old feet.
Although family’s so far and I miss them dearly, I’m with my friends who I value sincerely.
We laugh and we drink,
we eat and we think,
and each of us has a missing link.
So we understand it’s different, and it might be sad,
but it’s OK ‘cos we’re family,
so it’s not that bad.