Botmas Day

In the morning light, a strong breakfast takes form,
a small dent in the towering avocado mountain.
Around the table, discussions flow,
paths diverge as the group splits in two.

One route, ambitious, a winter challenge,
finds itself lost in the snow's embrace.
A near bivouac, a night under stars, averted,
they return, hearts racing, stories birthed in laughter.

The other path, less arduous, leads to festive scenes,
the Lakeside Hotel, where Michael Bublé's voice
serenades at just the right moment, comically perfect,
a soundtrack to their journey, a memory in melody.

On return, a collective effort unfolds,
a scrum forms around a snow-trapped Audi.
Together they push, united in struggle,
a car up the hill, a victory against winter's grasp.

Doctor Who, a Botmas Day guest,
moves with a spider's grace, head between legs,
a dance of the surreal, a moment of whimsy,
amidst the seriousness of snow and journeys.

Rob, in a moment of misfortune,
meets a beam with his head, a sudden fall.
A migraine ensues, an evening stolen,
in the stillness of a room, time passes slowly.

Matthew unveils his birthday cask ale,
its appearance deceiving, a mimic of urine.
But taste tells a different tale,
a celebration in each sip, laughter in every glass.

Anne, in the kitchen, crafts a feast,
beef rib, a culinary masterpiece,
bathed in port and Stilton gravy,
a symphony of flavours, a banquet of warmth.

And then, a question to ChatGPT, a moment of curiosity,
the meaning of a bent Advent candle sought.
In the glow of screens, answers unfold,
a conversation spanning from the mundane to the profound.