Gather round people; sit close to the flames,
Away from the bitterness, hatred and blames,
Away from the snow and the icicle pains,
In the hope that the fire remains.

Gather round people and hold out your hands,
And clasp them with others, shake off the demands
Of the cold – by listening to Christmas bands,
In the hope that the cold understands.

Hands are now warmed by your friends and the fire,
And though snow’s still falling the cold starts to tire
Because nothing but friendship makes you perspire,
In a cold that will never retire.

Now you are clustered - a finger apart.
The snow beating down can’t remember the start.
The goosebumps remain – it’s the shivers that part
As friends warm the fire of your heart.