It was early Christmas Eve Day
There was light snow on the ground
And lightly, if you listened
You could hear the slightest sound

It wasn't from a choir
Nor, a speaker on the street
But, a voice, tired and raspy
That would not admit defeat

Normally, at Christmas
The street would be alive
With last minute visits
Before Santa would arrive

Gianni held a party
For the vendors out this way
But, this year, there'd be nothing
There was no party today

Behind his place, The Bluesman
Had moved inside from the cold
He'd moved to the old Church basement
Where his stories were still told

He'd head outside and sing some
His "med-cine" in his jug
Behind the Church he'd set up,
On a wood chair, with a rug

The Bluesman sang to no one
His voice crisp, but not as strong
The elements were tough now
But, they would not take his song

The pastor, always present
Standing, watching by the door
He loved hearing the Bluesman
But, he loved the people more

Some Sundays, not all though
The Bluesman would begin
The service for the pastor
Then the choir joined in

He'd sneak off to the basement
Or outside, with his guitar
The Bluesman, felt his music
Was his lightning in the jar

This morning, though not Sunday
He was singing to the few
Lost souls, and some locals
Who had nothing else to do

The church doors were wide open
Every candle had been lit
It wasn't cold inside there,
But, maybe, just a little bit

He sang some Christmas carols
Some old blues, and Lennon too
He stopped and took a swallow
That was the choirs cue

They'd come in from the alley
The pastor had them in behind
The Bluesman, kept on singing
He was lost inside his mind

The church was filling up though
The voices carried on the wind
To those who always came here
And those who never sinned

There were masks of every colour
In every second row
The pastor kept folks distanced
For this little make shift show

The Bluesman sang a few more
Then he spoke unto the crowd
"Keep those you love inside your heart"
Though it wasn't very loud

He walked on past the pastor
By the choir, to the stair
And like Clement Moore's old Santa
In a blink, he wasn't there

Things this year were different
Not like parties in the past
Held up at old Gianni's
No one knew how long they'd last

There was no star to sing to
It was early in the day
But, we'd got our Christmas present
We'd got to hear the Bluesman play

Maybe next year, would be better
Back to normal, as before
But, who knows, just what will happen
What the muses have in store

So, take the Christmas message
"Keep those you love inside your heart"
God bless you all this Christmas
Another year is set to start