Hooray! It’s nearly time to celebrate
The passing of the darkest day of all
You don’t need to spend wildly to feel great
Or pass out through imbibing alcohol
No, why not simply sit back, meditate
On how once again we survived the fall
And now our frozen fingers push the gate
Into the garden sheltered from the squall
Expecting sunlit lawns and time to wait
Joy frozen like a statue in the hall
Surreal escapism a rising trait
As light and heat fades like a parent’s call
Clinging to children, hoping they’ll placate
These chill winds, their bright cheeks smooth as a ball
Wed 17 Dec 2008
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