Advent beckons in Basel City
I prepare my calendar,
hang my Christmas wreath.
Santa Klaus is dressed in red.
His helper Schmutzli is cloaked in brown.
They warn the great day is near.
Some youngsters’ faces light like candles.
Others wear frowns.
My mind sails to sunny islands, childhood.
Jambulls covered in coarse burlaps sacks.
Heads big like brown bears, prance around the villages,
spring and crack whips at naughty children
who flee in fear into mother’s arms.
My thoughts journey back
to my new home near the River Rhine,
join the children feasting on juicy mandarins,
brittle peanuts and lebkuchen,
December 6 snacks.
In the city, the Three Kings beat their staffs.
At home I dress my tree. Excitement
builds with every tinsel, red bell hung.
A silver angel perches at its crown.
I immerse myself in Christmas songs,
Last minutes shopping, wrap gifts,
sip Gluehwein, prepare ham, turkey,
sweet potato pudding.
At a midnight service, I celebrate
Christ’s coming, pray and think of family
far away under the umbrella of the tropical sky
There, Christmas carols ring the air
as choruses sing before gates.
Banjos and maracas compete with harmonicas.
I hunger for guava berry, the local sherry,
the beach where we make merry,
drink ginger beer and sorrel,
eat raisin buns, coconut tarts, papaya pastry.
Awaken by the heartfelt hymns,
I abandon the sun. Outside the church,
snowflakes powder the ground.
And I, warmed by the joy of Christmas,
feel home.
© Althea Romeo-Mark
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