Oh lucky me
I have my friends
I have beginnings
I have my ends
I have control
I have my head
I have my roof
My door and bed
Oh lucky me
I have been blessed
With time to work
And time to rest
Food to eat
And wine to drink
And time to just
Sit down and think
Oh lucky me
I have the love
Of my mother & father
And those above
I have their knowledge
When I fret
Because I ask
And so I get
Oh lucky me
I have so much
That I can just
Reach out and touch
And even though
This is all mine
There is more to come
How divine

No pressure to be up today,
blessed or cursed, hold on

the hands in yours may be tiny,
of passion, steady, familiar,
frail or memorial

they touch the same
and need you here x

Christmas past
is always framed
with melancholic gilt
though its broad strokes show
no love held is ever truly lost

Christmas present
as the Polaroid is shook
takes time to reveal itself
best when pressed in the pages
of the whole story

Christmas future’s binary
seems pixel cold, clinical,
bed-ridden fears looming
but, my dears, don’t fret:
we’ll get what we deserve

Just resting my eyes
as the lights in the tree dance
and some well trodden narrative
of Christmas redemption plays
in gloss on TV

the grey pull of January
is at bay for now
held off by cellophane wrappers
and the smells of a decadent kitchen

though not a Christian
I’ll be thankful anyway,
aware of the drop either side

I’ll let my usual pissy niggles rest
til next year