A Glorious Year

All the birds in the trees chirp on Xmas,

While far fewer go tweeting on X.

Every chop in the river’s a-glitter,

Sparkling veil for this glorious mess.

As we travel to visit the family,

Presents warm in the glow of the sun,

Christmas tree, loaded heavy with twinkles,

While our eggnog is loaded with rum;

Gathering here, all of us, round the table,

Seeing how the year etches each face,

Some of us, boasting loud of our triumphs,

Some of us, slinking off, in disgrace;

Glad we are, for the laughter around us.

Glad we are, for the glad company.

And yet, some of us worry, what’s coming

May make some of us miss being free.

Scents are wafting their way from the kitchen.

There’s a ripping of buttons and wrap.

Though we swear we cannot eat another,

Yet we’re glad to take home some of that.

It’s the season of excess and plenty.

It’s the season of largesse and love.

And yet someone will freeze on the corner,

While another will thank God above.

And we ask, what surprise lies before us,

While enjoying the here and the now.

We’re all hoping our good luck continues:

A miraculous year for the Dow!

And yet some lie awake in a sickroom,

And yet someone has spent his last dime,

And yet some got a note of eviction

As their holiday greetings, this time;

And a few have just won an election,

And they long, just to sit in that chair,

And they wish for a sip of that power,

And we smell burning books on the air…

But Christmas is here.  Let’s be merry,

And let’s gather our own to our breasts.

Such a glorious year!  Yet we wonder:

Will the coming year glow any less?

For a poem about someone determined to enjoy Christmas in a secular age, read Rumpelstiltskin. For a political reminder of the things that drive some of us, in rhyme, read Liberal Wish-List.