Botmas Eve

At the break of dawn, in the Bridge Cafe,
Matthew sits alone, a hearty meal his silent protest
against the tradition of Formaldehyde Friday.

His journey, a rhythmic echo on the tracks,
leads him to Waterside House, steeped in histories untold.
A steam train, a ghost from yesteryears,
sweeps beneath the bridge, captured in 4K.

Early arrivals, their eagerness palpable,
face the still-closed doors of the historic house.
Retreating to the Swan Hotel, a temporary sanctuary,
beers in hand, they fill the void with idle talk and laughter.

Fourteen souls eventually gather, a first for Botmas Eve,
echoes of life filling the ancient rooms.
From every corner of the country, they come,
converging at Newby Bridge, a mosaic of distant lives.

Within, a silent dilemma - who sleeps where,
in this edifice that whispers old tales?
The twins find delight in their room,
a secret den, their own small world within walls.

Cheese, in abundance, a legacy of Botmas celebrations,
overflows, each variety a story, a shared memory,
laughter entwined in the richness of flavours.

Then, Strax, the pug, with eyes wide and wondering,
a first in this gathering, a new chapter in Botters lore.
His presence, a gentle addition to the evening's tapestry,
a fresh character in this evolving narrative.

Nightfall brings a silent artist, snowflakes gently cascading,
painting the world in pristine white.
An unexpected transformation, the landscape reborn,
a blanket of tranquility under the moon's soft gaze.