Sirens

This is a Christmas poem and I wrote it in 9th grade, so... :/ I'm a Junior now.

Sitting in my room.

Grounded.

I watch snow falling outside my window.

Yearning for the cold, dry air.

For the freezing snow in the palms of my hands.

I hear bells.

The jingling of Christmas bells are like Sirens calling me.

The trees sit in frozen awe of their pearly white surroundings.

I open my window slightly and breathe in the shockingly cold air.

Yet, the smell of cookies wafts in my room from a few houses down.

The sky darkens and the twinkling Christmas lights flicker on in unison.

Walking to the kitchen, my mom offers me a gingerbread man.

It's warmth and sticky surface is enchanting.

The cookies caputre me, when I devour their delicacy.

The jingling of Christmas bells are enchanting like sirens calling me.

 

Author's Note

I wrote this forever ago, so...
Intelligence, please.