These are the hyggelige days we live for,
dark afternoons brightened by simple things;
pumpkin soup bubbling on the hob,
logs crackl – sorry, my phone just pinged.

Today we crochet socks.
We swap knitting patterns and tales
of meandering pine forest walks
and the frail beauty of a nightingale’s

song, as the scent of fresh rosemary clings –
I think the wi-fi has just gone down –
to our fingers. We shall bathe ourselves
in hygge’s warmth; it cosies, it surrounds,

and wraps our friendships like a blanket.
The soup is ready upon the aga.
I hope to heaven they will all leave soon.
I hear the call of Candy Crush Saga.