'Tis the season... Four riffs on Christmas
“Merry Christmas,” they say to me
as they hurry, homeward bound.
I sit like Scrooge in misery
with no one to put my arms around.
Writing mournful poetry,
chin sweeping the ground,
feeling sad for poor ole me,
lying unclaimed in Lost & Found.
.2.
Christmas is like Noah’s ark :
“Couples Only” or you can’t park.
All you solitary types,
lower your voices as you gripe.
Endure your 40 days of rain,
and excuse as we kiss again.
.3.
This year, I said
i’ll stay in bed
won’t even try
to get ahead
what’s the point
of trying hard
its much safer
to stay on guard
.4.
It’s that time of year
again
More from the archives. Written over three successive holiday seasons. (: Mid-nineties. Be kind. :)
Labels: poetry
4 Comments:
You never disappoint, Peter! Thanks for the cheer!
ziggy, how do you know what i feel? each time, spot on!
Tis good... and i'm not even being kind.
Just stumbled across an old fave poem - can't remember the title, though.
It's by Wendy Cope.
At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle,
The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle
And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle
And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful, if you're single.
:)
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