Time is Here Again
My Christmas tree this year. To-day's feeling fairly Christmasy, too; it's been snowing for the past couple hours. Proper cold came late this year. I said it'd come a few weeks ago but that one day turned out to be a fluke. It's only this week I've been wearing my heavy Inverness coat and long underwear.
Yesterday was my last day at my current school and it was also the day the school's English club had a Christmas party. I was especially sad to say goodbye to them as most of them are second year students and will therefore be third year students, and no longer participating in club activities, if I go back next year at the same time. They read from "A Visit from Saint Nicholas" and I showed them A Charlie Brown Christmas, which one student particularly seemed to like. The same student student brought balloons and had come up with a balloon volleyball game which we played. The kids really enjoyed it and I was happy to see some of the quieter ones coming out of their shells.
On Monday, we played our last Dungeons and Dragons game, from the original Dragonlance module I started them on last year. They voyaged to the heart of Xak Tsaroth, which I copied onto large sheets of graph paper, and faced the black dragon Khisanth, for which I'd made a little origami dragon. It was a hard battle, but they prevailed.
I also gave them candy canes I'd gotten on Amazon, just like last year. I remember last year it was so cold and snowy that I slipped on the ice outside my door, breaking some of the candy canes. No broken candy canes this year, so that's something.
X Sonnet #1800
Deceptive colours slice the temple lime.
With thoughts of horses, sleep at night descends.
A distant word reduces thought to time.
On shaky ropes, the fate of tongues depends.
A frigid castle broke the ice for kings.
No naming code could talk to me of words.
The eyes denied the worth of golden rings.
Dissolving shops amassed a dozen herds.
Balloons rebound from busy fingertips.
A table net preserves the space of play.
A fearful sky is full of watchful ships.
Conceptions ever dampen down the day.
Beyond the grasp of tortured brains it shines.
Escape was hid on garbage destined rinds.