We're nearing as we ready
The home with green and red;
A deflated Santa on my neighbour's lawn,
Canned snow sprayed in window corners,
Polyethylene on a white Christmas tree,
Gingerbread people drinking hot ***,
Mistletoe hanging from sticks and jambs,
And an apron round the stem.
I decorate, make my fruit cake,
Set out the children's books,
The ones I've read so often:
Rudolph and Old St. Nick,
They look foolish on my table.
Displayed in  their fixed place.
They're not like my Christmas bling,
The blinking lights, false stars at night,
Twas the Night Before Christmas
Is the real thing.
At midnight we'll hear choirs sing,
Joy to the World, Peace on Earth,
For one night I'll believe again.

Stay good night.
I see my words rise on my breath,
Being swept up to your stars.

Stay good people.
Who missed this year.
Who came last,
Who comes next.
I surely miss you all.

Such heavy memories
Of snow-laden branches,
Castles in globes,
Ballerinas in boxes.

My new memories
Will never last as long
As the ones I've carried all along.

The children are grown,
They have their own
Christmas.
It's the natural order
To leave the hearth,
And start.
No more journeys home,
They're there.
You see, I'm not alone,
I recall all we had
When we were home.
The exuberant joy and anticipation
On your faces on Christmas morn.
I had it all.
I have it all,
The past, our presence,
From first, to our last.

Children drugged with truthless tales . . .
Unwise men embrace their treasure;
Algorithms urge the sales
In malls devoid of merry measure.

Plastic sparkles in the air;
Automotive ads turn festive . . .
Forced good nature everywhere
Makes the shopping crowds grow restive.

Corporate greed spins altruistic
Hyping goods, suppressing Christ.
Our Yuletide is their big statistic
Oversold and underpriced.

Secular beribboned fluff:
Peace, Goodwill . . .  but don't say God !
And heaven knows you've had enough;
Just download the app—acquire the mod.

Coca-Colaed, Disneyfied
You're wrapping paper for their fire;
Eggnogged, Santa-ed, thrown aside
While Babel's flames roar ever higher.

The godlessness shines right on through
Where Christmas lyrics die, unheard.
The Yule-log and the sparks that flew
Expire in embers long unstirred.

The old usurper carting toys
And Chinese knock-offs in his sled
Sets off a lot of empty noise:
Insanity in green and red.

The lurker leers and hauls his bag
(jolly antichrist distraction)
While flying Bishop Nicholas' flag:
A winter psy-ops covert action.

Only message left: go drink!
And may your cup o'erflow with cheer
Before you risk to start to think
Yourself and God right out of here.

Hallmark haloes, bygone kitsch
enwreaths the memory of the years,
Kindling maudlin sadness which
wells up in melancholy tears

For Christian culture (rest in peace)
Long-corrupted by dollar signs;
For fa la la and fattened geese
And holly midst the ivy vines;

For Dickens' gospel of the season
Anglican angelic ghosts
Pushing us beyond unreason
Toward the future's spectral hosts;

For folklore now reduced to ash
Commercial blow-outs, ***** snow;
For Saturnalian urge to smash
the store-front windows where they show;

For useless manger figurines
Passed down from some more faithful time;
For hallowed and nostalgic scenes
No longer worth a Roman dime.

"Is there anyone for stuffing?
Well done George, send us down your plate,
Auntie, if you've finished with the cranberry sauce
Could you please pass it across to Kate?"

"Brian can I interest you in my brussels?
There's nothing quite like a good sprout,
If anyone wants anything passed,
Don’t wait to be asked, just shout."

"Richard, will you please sit and eat,
And just stop irritating Claire,
No, you better wash your hands first,
You're getting gravy in her hair."

"Ted, you wanted more potatoes,
What, you only want one or two?
But the ones left really aren’t that big,
I'd better pile on a few."

"Sarah, you're not looking after your young man,
The poor boy's been left to starve,
Go and get him some more turkey dear,
Your Father will help you to carve."

“Malcolm, not too much in Grandma’s glass,
You know what she gets like,
Open another red for Father,
I’ll stick to the bubbly-white.”

"Well if everybody's had enough,
I think I'd better finish the peas,
Richard, don't cough over the table,
Remember your manners, please."

"Ah, make way for Father and the Christmas pud,
I hope he hasn't overdone the brandy,
Saints preserve us . . . Father’s on fire. . !!
Oh, well smothered dear, three cheers for Mandy,
Hip, hip, hooray,
Hip, hip, hooray,
Hip, hip, hooray."

"No, Louise, you can't pull the crackers yet,
We're saving those for tea,
Richard, take that stupid tinsel off your head,
And put it back on the tree.”

“Everyone go in the other room and play games,
Just leave all the dishes to me,
I’ll do the washing and drying up,
While I’m sorting out something for tea.”

“Richard please don’t tease the dog,
Claire don’t pin that tail on the cats,
Lloyd, play nicely, stop fighting with Louise,
You’re ruckling up all of the mats.”

“Hmmmnn … not quite enough sherry in this trifle,
Hick … I think there’s probably more in me,
I’m sure I’ve been working far too hard,
Hick … I’m feeling quite dizzy.”

“They say that Christmas comes but once a year
And aren’t I just glad that’s so,
It’s nice to see all of them for a while,
But it’s even better to see them go …”

Heading into Bethlehem . . .
Three Wise Men,
In search of a stable.

Heading out of Bethlehem . . .
Three Wise Turkeys,
While they were - still able.