Frosted globes of light
Through mullion windows shine,
Darkened turrets outline
The first opaque fall of night.

Restless figures hurry by
Few with time to kill,
For Christmas is to occupy
The ruthless pursuit of goodwill.

Carol singers, lights and Santa Claus
Compete to commercialise the fun,
And there is scarcely time to pause
From routines programmed in one.

The planning that goes into all the chores
Networked amongst a dwindling family group
That relish what at other times are bores,
To stop tradition escaping from the loop.

A direct line back to memories
Keeping true to past times,
The very thought of it decrees
Snowflakes, robins and bell chimes.

December 1997