Christmas Afternoon
Is the white bearded senility with age
That rounds out the raveled year
With whom and wherever we hold most dear
Before that sleep which wakens queer
In a wassailing for Spring
Cold and wet, the wassailing for Spring
Christmas is the time for bone aching
Sedentary, watching the fireplace like a Tv set
Complaining how the wine isn’t as good as last year
When last year’s wine wasn’t so good either,
Just as this year’s memories aren’t selected yet
And how many memories
We’ve yet to forget
Merry Christmas my dear,
Bar the wassail cold and wet
Nice job Mr Johnson! I wish I had a fireplace. I can conger one up in the mind still thankfully..Merry Christmas.
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