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Aimée 20h
One more day is left to go,
Until you hear the oohs and ohs,
The Christmas lights illuminate the town,
There should be smiles instead of frowns,
A robins perched upon a branch,
In through the window,
It takes a glance,
It sees the room is dazzling and festive,
And everyone wakes up to go down for breakfast.
The sleepy heads come down the hall,
And there's the tree still standing tall,
Presents are ripped open,
Paper flung in the air,
Then going to church to say their prayers.
They come back home to have their dinner,
Crackers pulled, behold a winner!
The paper crowns placed on their heads,
They talk and laugh and eat, then fed.
Carolers calling to the door,
Each page is turned they sing more and more,
Sit down again and have dessert,
The 25th is Jesus's birth.
Movies watched and stories shared,
Pictures taken and memories that can't be tared,
Snow falls down and the fire is bright,
It gets quite cold and turns to night,
People kiss under the mistletoe,
Kids running to rooms to and fro.
This occasion is done by a collective,
Coming from a Robin's perspective.
HTR Stevens Dec 2021
Merry Christmas and all that
Do put on your tinsel hat
Humour does not go amiss
To one and all blow a kiss.

Rules are for some - not for all
Well! this is quite a close call
Remember to doff your hat
Aye, the Queen can greet the cat.

Twinkling stars and fairytale
Flying carpets never fail
From all our eyes drop the scales
Re-mix and spare the details.

Living in a "Wonderland":
My eyes can feel grit and sand
Like floating in outerspace
With a mask across my face.

Earth has had a thorough shake
The world is due a re-make
We'll see what lands on the top
For success, failure or flop.
NTK Dec 2021
Silence, the ship's sails have halted
The sea whales have ceased
Singing their lamentations, as the beach shore sanguines a murky horizon

Red fades to black, as shimmers of wavering hope speckle a once pure....Once, pure hellscape carved by tainted talons
Blood drips from the heavens, tears mix into a toxic vile
The mirror's ink lighter upon my trace,as the siren's wails sound increasingly feint, feinter
Now whispers reverberating in the Guilded chambers of my rotting shame and guilt
.
MuseumofMax Dec 2021
‘Oh Christmas tree oh Christmas tree’

Your lights shine too bright
My eyes
Are sensitive
And so are my ears

Loud voices and bustling shoppers
Make me anxious
Whatever happened to whoville?

I don’t need presents or money
I’m happy with those I love around me

Sometimes I wonder if they feel the same
Or has the holiday season
Driven them insane?
AP Vrdoljak Feb 2021
At first it made me happy
But now it makes me feel ashamed
My Christmas tree in February
Blue and green
Side by side
glittered in the dark
Achromatic leaves on the trees
Golden yellows
Glowed in the back
Festive lights glow through the night
Colours never fail
In their journey of spreading light
Inspired by the decorations on the streets
Paul Butters Dec 2020
Thank Goodness Santa was exempted
From Covid Travel Rules,
So he could go and deliver
All those presents and shimmering jewels.
My great nephew and niece all smiles:
Look at their happy faces.
Santa did all those miles
And got to so, so many places.

He even brought me mine
Disguised as mail delivery.
Giving his reindeers time
To rest, for a while,
In their Lapland livery.

Top of the Pops at noon.
It was on so very soon.
Some nice tunes and jingles
Like a box full of Pringles.

Not quite Rock and Roll,
But still a hint of Soul.
Meaningful lyrics
And some atmospherics.

The Queen gave us Hope
With her speech at three.
No time to mope
Here in the land of the Free.

Trust you all enjoyed this festive day some way.
And let us all pray
That things get better
From New Year’s Day.

It’s time to conquer Covid:
About time I hear you shout.
It’s DNA decoded,
Vaccinations all about.

So twenty-twenty-one
Is coming very soon.
When this year is all done,
Let’s fly up to the moon.

Let’s fill the world with Love,
Holding hands again.
Goodbye to twenty-twenty,
Goodbye to all the pain.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\12\2020.

(Last two lines changed at the suggestion of Norman Stevens 27\12)

(Original final two lines were:
“It’s not a matter of whether,
Only a matter of when.” ).
Jade Wright Dec 2020
I pop open the blister pack and poke the pill through,
dip it in sugar to mimic an advent calendar.
The doors are endless, a childhood dream.

I can’t get used to the lightness of despair.
I’ve mastered depression- damp, bell-heavy,
but despair?
It’s almost ethereal. Fairy lights in the breeze,
a brief twinkle
the wink of a tealight before it concludes.

The children hand me treasures they’ve found in the mud
Forest School, or playing outside as it used to be called,
before everything needed branding.
I smile, another leaf for my hair
more stones for my pocket. Anchors in open water.  
‘Are you okay, Miss?’

I sink into mauve bubbles, not trying to drown
only grounding my weight again.
Lilac shimmers the water and I trickle it over me,
smearing life across sallow skin.
My Rudolph earrings hang florid
tinsel etches my scalp. It’s the Nativity today
and my beaming face will echo that of the angels.
Happy.
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