Winter comes down
The calendar says December,
There’s frost on the car
The days are much shorter,
Summer sun seems so far.
Winter colds are approaching,
Sniffles and coughs everywhere,
The shops are all hoaching,
Fairytale of New York fills the air.
Get the tree from the attic,
My wife asks of me,
And we’ll put it up quick,
Before the baby can see.
Well it comes down in it’s box,
And is laid in the room,
Where it sits by the clock,
Ignored in the gloom.
I can’t be bothered I say,
To decorate the tree,
We can do it the next day,
For now leave me be.
I’ve had enough of false cheer,
The noise and the fuss,
Just give me a cold beer,
I don’t get all the rush.
Now Christmas morning has come,
And Santa has been,
Let’s pretend to have fun,
Rushing down to the scene.
Trying to hide it as I open the door,
The smile lights my face,
And I know it’s not Christmas nor
Fun that I fail to embrace.
We gather around in the warmth of our home,
Swapping presents, get hugs and eat ‘till we groan,
It’s the time as a family I love and cherish the most,
As winter comes down and we share Christmas roast.
Mince and Skirlie 