Under The Mistletoe Poem by Alc Harris

I saw you move across the room.
With a wistful sigh,
I found myself led, from the tinsel and lights
To a quieter place
Alone in my head.
Where I considered the thought
Of how would you taste,
Under the mistletoe
With mince pie lips.

Would you be sickly sweet,
Like cherry coke.
Or Rich and warm, like Christmas pud.
Would you be the angel
The crown of the tree.
Or the gaudy displays that line the streets.
Then there you were
That delicious smile …
I caught your eye…

the lights went out