A COLLEGE CHRISTMAS

The college quad was dark and foreboding apart from one tiny bulb that glowed dimly in the porter’s office. Three hundred of us stood, shuffled our feet and made occasional muted comments to friends. Many of us wore the hoodies of the day, a dark blue duffle coat with a college scarf. Since the scarves were mainly for ornamentation with both ends dangling to our waists, they did little to keep us warm.

A bell rang, the sound tinny and muffled, but everyone tensed as the door of the chapel corridor creaked and a hand appeared, palm upwards, either in supplication or to check if it were raining. Then footsteps sounded on the cobbles and figures edged slowly through the opening. No one was recognisable in the darkness until a stooped figure with wide shoulders paused and lifted both hands. He pivoted sideways as two lanterns moved forward and past giving an eerie glow to his face. It was the principal and his wide shoulders were his cape of office. Another two lanterns glittered in the air and I became aware that the choir had softly begun chanting as they moved forward to take up their position.

The four students who carried lanterns on long poles moved to either side of the entrance gate and stood like guardians around the choir who in turn seemed like courtiers protecting the principal. He muttered some thing totally incomprehensible in Latin while the choir master, the only one in white robes, and who looked like a picnicker attacked by flies, lifted his hands and began waving. As ‘O little Town of Bethlehem’ echoed round the stone building I realised he was conducting.

A shiver ran up my body and I thought just how beautiful and magical this ceremony was. The male voices on the still air had lifted the college into another world. It was our own microcosm of tranquillity. Then the first snowflake drifted down and hung suspended in the air as our male voices played with Silent Night. By the time the choir finished their solo verse with “Christ the Saviour is born”, we all had our own powdery white decoration and the lanterns were a twinkle of movement.

Finally the principle mumbled his usual blessing and we turned for the entrance to our accommodation blocks. No one spoke, just the occasional sheepish grin as we shook the snow from our clothes and walked the long corridor. All would change in the main Christmas party soon to begin, but none of us would forget what we’d just experienced.

WAKING TO DREAM

I've decided to add some of the short stories I've been writing. If you like them, please let me know


WAKING INTO DREAMS

It must have been around one am when we both dropped off to sleep. It was a warm June night and both of us had felt a gentle breeze whisper through our open window and touch our sweating bodies with a ripple of shivers. Another shower was out of the question. The pulsing rhythm of a power jet had turned the evening’s second spell beneath the cascade into a frenzied bout of love making, our bodies becoming as one as we’d twisted and moved in harmony with the dynamic forces pouring from the chrome shower head.

Now Jeannie sighed with contentment as we both slipped into dreams. Immediately in the fantasy world I became aware that I was holding her hand and leading her forward along a grassy green track that seemed to hover below our feet. A gently flowing stream trickling over and around small water worn rocks brought a flash of memory from earlier in the evening, but instead of a frantic coupling of bodies a gentle sense of belonging to and with Jeannie transmuted the thought into harmonious amusement and we both turned and smiled into one another’s eyes.

I looked forward again and saw as though surrounded by a misty halo a lady riding side saddle on a large brown horse. As the horse slowly drew closer its right leg found a stone on the path and began tapping a cadence on the harder surface giving resonance to the air around us that almost hummed with an electric vitality.

Nervously glancing round I saw Jeannie was now behind me, bending towards the ground, holding her hands beneath the pink and red flowered dress she wore, pulling its lacy hem sideways and slightly backwards. With a shock I realised she was trying to curtsey. My mouth must have been gaping wide as I swung back towards the horse and its awesome rider.

Ultimate power with a pure spiritual essence I have never before imagined could exist, sent shivers through my mind, drawing out my inner psyche, inspecting both its faults and what I feel is my better side. Then as though a light switch had been flicked upwards, the laser like intensity faded and I could look at the crowned rider in her swirling blue robes.

Her pale face inclined downwards slightly, her brow lifting into two frown lines as though questioning why we should have trespassed into her domain. An intangible authority radiated dominance without any need for the sparkling diadem encircling her auburn hair. Swirling cobalt blue spun through her robe as flashes of gold reflected the radiant sun that gave a slight shadow on her hidden side. I looked into her eyes and to this day many years later I still cannot attempt to describe their colour. Suffice it to say they twinkled, flashed, smiled, frowned and saw what mortal eyes can never comprehend, all aspects occurring simultaneously.

With a voice gentle, calm, but all knowing, she asked “With what purpose travel you to these realms?” her barely moving lips giving a slightly old world turn to the question.

“To learn of mystic pathways”, I replied, reaching for Jeannie’s hand as she too stared in utter fascination. “To move forward along the evolutionary streams and to serve the source of light”

“You have much to learn, but you will always be welcome here.” A sparkling diamond in a form never seen in our world hovered just above her breasts. Her left hand glittered with jewels that seemed to cascade over and around her fingers as she reached for and touched the diamond before upturning and extending it in my direction. It was as though tiny fireflies glinted and flashed.

“My lady, I thank you” I said, giving a tiny bow. The horse snorted, almost in derision, as I continued, “We both acknowledge your majesty, your power and your wisdom. May we ever serve you, in honour and glory?”

I flashed a glance at Jeannie who looked totally mesmerised. “May we now leave you in peace?”

This time as her words sounded in our ears, I swear there was no movement whatsoever in her pale lips, but the words resonated with a powerful echo. “Return to your world, where together you will share your life. Think always of me, The Lady of the Sceptres, who will guide and teach the two of you.”

As she said the word sceptre a garland of glittering stars sparkled where the diadem had been. From the diamond around her throat tiny sparkles of golden light cascaded towards us and flickered around our bodies. Then the horse grunted once more, shook his head and slowly turned, powerful thighs tensing ready for a journey. Once more he looked back at us and I still think that this time he winked before the whole scene vanished.

A ray of sunlight popped through the leaves of the oak tree outside my window. Pushing down with my hand to twist my body upwards I looked down at Jeannie, breathing softly in sleep. I kissed her brow and then let the forefinger on my other hand rest gently on her left breast, circling the nipple which hardened to my touch. Moving my finger back towards me I traced a straight line until reaching the other beautiful symbol of femininity, but this time as I touched the nipple, my thumb joined in to give a gentle squeeze.

One eye flickered half open, so moving closer I blew softly onto her beautiful red lips which glistened where her tongue had gently touched them as she awoke. Both eyes were open now and smiling up at me.
Now I knew that together we would travel this world in love and adventure and that the mystic cord which had spiralled around us, would last long after this incarnation and lead us ever forward into time and space.

Just before Christmas I was doing an extra mural creative writing course by Keele University which met in Stafford town each week. Our homework topic was a poem that was rhythmical.Do You Trust Christmas has a lot of imagery and rhythm but it is one that questions Christmas and associated concepts so it was a bit of a shock to the writing course members. However having written it, I liked it. Who else does



Do You Trust Christmas A poem

David Edwards


The fluttering leaves and whispering winds,
A magical glimpse of autumnal joy.
But transparent minds need memorable love
Of wintertime cold and chattering song.

The crucified trees stand shivering bare
While whimsical tales shall rekindle life.
The mystical time all worshippers want
Is transcending hope and challenging faith.

A transparent dream will recreate trust
In storytime jokes which sanctify lies.
Green conifer trees will notify peace
While reverie soon will extinguish god.