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Diksha Prashar Dec 2019
Another year
Another prayer said
Holy day of
To fest,

The gifts
Love notes

The message of being
It projects,

Merry Christmas
To all dear lads!
J Dec 2019
It’s Christmas time and the house is quiet
No one home and no one to share it
No one laughing and no one crying
All alone it Christmas time we can’t hide it
No place to go, no one to turn too
Try and be happy it’s something I’ve learnt too
It’s Christmas time a time to be happy not sad or lonely
Come spend it with me if only
It’s Christmas time
Nick Strong Dec 2019
Talk to me, talk to me of Old St. Nick
Talk to me of Sinterclaus
Of Mikulas, Pere Noel, or Babbo Natale

Talk to me of candles, christingle and a silent night
Talk to me of crackers, carols and calamities
Talk to me of snow, sleighs, and stars
Talk to me of Christmas cards, wrapping paper
Talk to me of gold, old spice and mice
Talk to me of icing, icicles
igloos, ivy
Oh sweet Hollie
Tots of Drambuie
Marmalade and toast

Talk to me of Philip Scholfield
Carols From Kings
Mary Poppins
Festive films
Radio Times
And things that are too pretty
Lights, nights
Hark, Dark
barking dogs
Tinsel Town
Wolves at the door
Salvation Army playing once more

Talk to me
Talk to me
Cream Crackers, cheese
Frosty mornings, old knees

Talk to me of snow covered alpine forests
walnuts and berries
Festive fun,
A seasonal run
Of All Gold telly
With a full belly
Farts, sprouts
Turkey that tastes just like chicken
Oh talk to me of
Terry Wogan
Rosh Jogan
Grogan Josh
Last minute deals
Black Friday
White Friday
And all the Cyber Mondays

Talk to me of
Happy Mondays
Dancing Bez
In a Festive Fez

Talk to me
Talk to me
Of Festive time
Late nights
Early mornings
All in entertainment

Oh talk, TALK to me
Of hangovers,
sleep overs
and cute kittens

Oh talk to me of
fake Chanel
Faux Fur and underwear
Celvin Klein

Talk to me , Talk to me of
Jonah Lewie
Bony M
The Pogues
and all those rogues
Fairy tale of New York
Stop the Cavalry
Mary's Boy Child
And the
Spaceman who came riding by

Oh talk, Talk , Talk to me
of places, and spaces We all know
Christmas markets
Tesco, Aldi and John Lewis Adverts showing
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Oh talk to me
Oh talk to me of old St. Nick

Talk to me
Talk to me
Talk to me
Talk to me
Bah humbug
Talk to me
Talk to me
Happy Christmas
Read aloud at speed. Enjoy!
Jayantee Khare Sep 2019

neither party nights
nor the shining lights
neither music loud
nor happening crowd

neither flaunting clothes
nor updated wardrobes
neither make-up showy
nor glittery jewellery...

love my comfort zone
in my way own
an evening with moon afar
a night under twinkly stars

give me a peaceful corner
and a pen with paper
in a candle dim
the thoughts sing

the words dance
a poetic chance
a divine romance
the onset of a trance...

not sad
not even mad
all scars healed completely
with the time and distance
but undergone a metamorphosis
to transform my inner self
to reform my being
While the world is in festive mood,
I'm enjoying the solitude...
She does nails
she's got indomitable *** appeal
a lunging sort of a walk
a swagger sort of a talk
when she's on the up and up
but a straight lace face otherwise
hurling enigmatic hellos
sweeping up confetti good mornings
blowing merry christmases
swaying in then out
long-time-no-see like
it's that end of the year ear to ear
Way above our little town
Sitting high upon the hill
The place we all  called Christmas House
And I think it sits there still

We used to go there sledding
No one once chased us away
That place we all called Christmas House
I wonder if they still sled there today

To us it seemed enormous
All lit up with lights so bright
That place we all called Christmas house
I wonder if it's still lit up tonight

There was a tree in the front window
You could see it from the road
The place we all called Christmas House
It was a palace when it snowed

There were wreaths in all the windows
The arbor covered with red bows
The place we all called Christmas House
I wonder if anybody knows

It's been years since I have seen it
It gave all our hearts a lift
The place we all called Christmas House
To visit there, it was a gift

We went there every winter
We would sled, have snowball fights
The place we all called Christmas House
Was always lit so bright

One thing I remember though
In all my time upon the hill
The place we all called Christmas House
Was always quiet, empty, still

I know it's been near forty years
Since I left home, moved away
The place we all called Christmas House
Still sticks with me today

It's a memory of a better time
When  the winters were much colder
The place we all called Christmas House
Makes me forget that I got older

I have to make a point this year
To fo home, back to the start
The place we all called Christmas House
Is on a hill, and in my heart
Aduain Nov 2018
Tree and lights,
Shop window sights,
Frost and chill,
The presents bill!

Wrapping up gifts,
blizzard in drifts,
snow and gritters,
chintz and glitter.

pupil dilation,
paper in shreds,
curiosity fed.

Turkey and trimmings,
mulled drinks brimming,
family and friends,
latest toy trends.

Hat and scarf,
children’s laugh,
snowman’s nose,
frozen toes.

Christmas Telly,
big full belly,
children tired,
the roaring log fire.

Offspring to bed,
all cosy and fed,
deepest sleep,
Not a sound, not a peep.

Snowflake falling,
Relatives calling,
Music and dance,
Lost in a trance.

The Festive season,
Always good reason,
To meet up and blether,
Whatever the weather
Truckaduk Nov 2018

Happy Thanksgiving, people.
Angela Liyanto Oct 2018
As my dream world does not need any eyes to see
Fainted-sight nearly never lose its vision,
To find truth as of a wonder spectacle,
Near as the interlaced connections in my mind
Will spark a fantastic find or wish or click
In sound of a new sight for all to see:

A pungent child, and distinguished clown, his loud bellows
Of laughter and inspite of joyous encasement,
a frowning juggler, a coy boy in boots
And a fluorescent jumping castle
Muddled in a festival of such this May,
Merry people below thousand scattered balloons

All of manic heights from feisty whirlpool rides.
That these festivities might twirl into a dream land
That pokes at little men in need to mischief-hay
Embers of cooking sausages, discussion from the winner-goat race
The purplish-nagging bubble-gum that
Lands on the mother's heeled shoes…

What somethings did we wish for? Standing mext to
the exquisite gushing of lemonade frenzy stall
Seven bright women dance on stage,
Their Columbian accents beating and developed,
Teenage archery competes to Artemis cue
Within a wrinkle they missed the grains of cash

And seven hundred travellers roam the grass
Perform their coy group marches, crowds gaping
And it pleases the children.
Dionysus breathes warmth & chuckles to the place,
The gracious torch fell on the harlequins backstage
With their panpipes and rainbow flags.

The son of the policeman was dressed as the Genie
For some reason, he liked to flock the youth
Together in a circle.
And there was always a grazed stuntman in the centre.
there was mad-shouting and the children
Took no notice of the drizzling rain.

What grace-frenzy dreamland this might show
That it will be sad outcome for it to be in only one mind
To express the mist of experience
In a word or two, seems perplex-hard to do
I arrange such wonderland and fairy love
In a seamstress of rose-tinted speech.
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