Is it not Christmas


 

This poem is about Christmas and how it can bring happiness for some and at the same time mean nothing for others.

 

 

Some say it’s Christmas, probably its just winter

Wool’s on display and the colors just rush.

The wine of the old stock, keeps the old blood stir,

the toys in the stockings have the young ones hush.

 

The tree of green, the now died down tree of fur

Stands lit, to the Christmas greet in lush.

And the party plays no guitar swirls  

Now the romance in the violin keeps the rush.

 

The turkey on the table, brings all in a feast,

And ho the Turkey, which brought the wise ones together such,

For she is now just an angel, for time now at least      {”She” here refers to the wife}

So, they say, it is Christmas, in such joys pretty much.  

 

The saints on the beer mugs, now in the Santa’s hat,

Play Christmas, and sport a million wish.

The slays in the garages, now jingle away a gift

Some get the toys of there want and some joy in just a bliss.

 

Though some saw no gifts, no wine, and no party

And there wasn’t any Santa, nor heard of one such,

for there were just people, many, helpless as me

Away from the slays, in a far-missed shush.

 

 

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Comments

One of your very average poem…
Expect much much better from you…
As you said ,the name underneath does not go well with this piece of work…
cos you have raised your bar with ” An inexpensive Dream”…

Keep writing though…

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