Christmas Time Again

It’s Christmas time again, oh dear,

It seems to come this time each year.

It’s wet and cold, or dry and cold,

Or cold and dark, and as a rule

The kids are also out of school.

The roads are clogged with shoppers spending

Money they don’t have, pretending

With the blush of insincerity

That they’re practicing austerity.

And then there’s hapless folks like me,

Who don’t put much beneath the tree,

Don’t even know where we should go,

Can’t even find the mistletoe.

I must remember, in this setting,

It’s all about the love, not getting;

Radiating mood convivial,

Smiling warmly, feeling trivial.

Assembled in a family space,

Christmas dinner in the air,

I wonder whether we’ll say grace,

Though privately I do not care.

I’m pleased we’re spending time together

On this Christmas holiday,

With the children, with the weather,

Trying not to slide away —

I’m trying to partake of blissness

In conditions anaerobic.

It’s not that I do not like Christmas,

I’m just Santa Claustrophobic.