The Christmas poem

The Mistletoe hangs with its own memory of Christmas and the radiant green, represents the cycle of seasons relived..seasons which swell each droplet of dew that drip from Christmas trees on Christmas eve

And the merriment identifies with snow cones and kids, as the red and white delights Santa's bag of gifts

And we think of pot roast chicken with extra sauce, Ginger beer, Cheese snips, Pepper pot and Garlic Pork with a kick !
As the Season's tidings combay  a cascade of creative happenings
We hit and break glasses as the noise mounts with bottles of rum!
Rolling with laughter and diving for treats only to find none! 

Each fairy lit scene overflows into another as the days count down
and  trees rise up with....the suspense of tiny strings
 
And so with these memories we cook, we clean and we greet strangers anew
Gather in carolling to sing hymns about the  peace and happiness this season brings
And this random choir welcomes the spirit of our King: the reason for the overflow of joy and well wishing   
But,  like the putty that's smeared in the cracks and creases we choose to notice now in our houses
We melt...we melt at the core..which we often try to cover up with fancy blouses
Peace... sends our hearts roaming for a soft fill of memories we once neglected and...when found, we laugh or present it with a gift
Then, we choose to keep this awesome glory, by holding hands, calling up and hugging

And...as the aroma of ham shrivel our noses, churn our stomachs and  stir the excitement of an imminent feast,
Even as the decor sits on the summit of our clothing and our doors they colourfully, gracefully hang!                                         
The presence...the presence of friends and family will always harness the reign.. of Christ's beautiful birthing!