Christmas is coming!
The goose is getting fat,
There’s so much that I have to do,
And what do you think of that?
The Christmas rush is all around,
We stagger from the load.
We start to dread the time ahead.
We seek another road
To travel at this time of year
Because the pace is rude.
We have to do so many things to do
All sorts of “musts” intrude.
There’re cards to send and gifts to wrap,
And meals to plan and serve,
At Christmas Eve, we want to shout
Let’s stop it all! but haven’t got the nerve.
Tradition is the reason why we feel a sense of guilt,
We Have to do the things we do
Or the tree will start to wilt.
Creating what we think will cheer
Our family and friends,
Reliving what we always do
And yet perhaps, pretends
To be a way to bring us hope
In a hard and dreary world
When war and hunger, pain and loss
In is oft unfurled.
But somewhere in the clutter
Is the story full of hope,
A child born to change the world,
To teach us how to cope.
A story of redemption
To grant us full release
From all the glitz and glitter
To give us love and…
Peace,
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