‘Tis The Season

Christmas. New Year.

The stuff in between, and the stuff after.

It can be the most thrilling and the loneliest time of the year.

Saturday Before Christmas

On the way to the closest city

To conclude Christmas-related shopping

We stopped to marvel at

A slowly crisscrossing gang of paragliders

Wheeling and milling across the middle distant air

Bracketed specks, cartoons of surprised eyes

Buzzing random paths above the hill

The goats were unmoved by the

Aerobatics in the beyond behind

Idly interested in the promise of food

From this peering stranger

Walking back to the car

I found myself grinning

At a gaggle of dog owners

Each with an equally angry chihuahua

I mimed ‘quiet’ with a finger over my smile

To the delight of the humans

Infuriating the chihuahuas

Beyond measure

And they redoubled their frantic barking efforts

A corkscrew haired child at the head of the gaggle

Dogless

Glowered at me balefully

Christmas Constitutional

‘Wrap up warm,’ Aunt Mildred said, ‘It’s bitter out.’

So after her tinder-dry turkey

Doused with gravy, the only saving grace of which

Was its resolute lumpiness

And sprouts that had been simmering since September

They lugged a sullen and unresponsive spaniel

Out for a Christmas constitutional

On a Baltic beach with waves of iron coldness

Joining a small battalion of other small dogs

Dragging their frozen owners on leashes so taut

They could play them like guitar strings

If their fingers weren’t so damn cold

Twenty minute shuffle and snuffle there

Ten minute dash back

Back to the promise of a stoked fire

To defrost hot-aching toes

While Aunt Mildred snored, head bonelessly back

Oblivious to the Queen’s Speech

Aunty Dot’s 100th

‘Treat every Christmas

As if it were your last one.’

Her Aunty Dot said

When asked about the secret

To a long and happy life.

Once the TV crew

Were safely out of earshot

Hundred-year-old Dot

Hissed ‘I bloody hate Christmas,

But I can’t resist a soundbite.

There is no secret

To living past ninety-nine

It’s a lottery

You take a chance every day

And mostly, you’re a winner.’

The Last After Eight in the Box

Pulls down the collapsible ladder

Lowers the long box from the loft

Calls it the Christmas Coffin

Because it’s where the tree is laid to rest

Every Twelfth Night.

Takes the time to primp each snowy branch

Hanging every decoration with care

Has to be balanced, evenly spaced to

Catch the sparkle from the lights

Then sips a sherry and watches

‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ again

While scrabbling for the last After Eight in a

Boxful of empty wrappers

For which he can only blame

Himself.

Balloons

To say Papai was displeased

With the boy, would be something

Of an understatement - caught his

Dirty digits deep in the till drawer

But as it was the season of goodwill

To all - even the sticky-fingered

His punishment - condemned to

Spend the Twixtmas hinterland

Patrolling the tourist-filled town square

Trying to sell novelty balloons

Admittedly was less severe

Than it could have been

But the boy found himself dreaming

Every night

Of some unsettling scenarios

That he lost his grip

Of the unifying string and

His clump of inane inflatables

bumbled ungracefully

Into the ionosphere

With the boy standing

Slump-shouldered

Surrounded by bawling brats

Or that Mario and some Minions

SpongeBob and Sonic

Conspired and colluded

To escape or explode

And as soon as the first

Helium-filled bladder went ‘bang!’

Papai somehow knew

(Because Papai knew everything)

Then Papai popped into existence

Like a balloon in reverse

With a gas-distorted grin, he asked

‘Which one of your dirty little digits

Do you think you can live without?’

The boy proffered a pinky, but

Papai shook his back-of-a-spoon

Moon’s-a-balloon head, whisked

Boltcutters from his back pocket

With an illusionist’s flourish

And bagged the biggest instead

The boy woke screaming

Sweating and, gratefully

Counting to ten.

Changing of the Guard

Stuck in their Arctic garret

Like a thumb stuck to an ice cube

A solo candle guttering at its wick’s end

It’s only the hot flush of shame

At what happened on their watch

That colours their badly-drawn features

That keeps them pyrrhically warm.

They nod over at the fit young thing

Proudly woodpeckering the punch ball

In the bright loft gym

In the sleek new tower across the way

Knuckles taped and ready

Gumshield grinning unsuppressed

All eager with hope and ready for the big night

The big fight.

Perhaps a call would be good

Perhaps text a warning

Or more likely

Slink out the beckoning back door

Dragging a sad sparking scythe behind

Just like last year’s loser.

Day Before Twelfth Night

‘Might as well take them down today’

And despite the mutterings about bad luck

The balloons, baubles, tinsel and tree

Were all popped, taken down or dismantled

And packed away in the grey plastic skip

Labelled ’XMAS’ and stashed in the stockroom

Ready to fight another day. All except one

Red crepe-stained stub of sellotape

Stuck to the overhead office striplight

Just out of reach of even the tallest

Without the boost of the foldable kitchen step

(And honestly, who could even be bothered?)

Until at least Easter, or maybe Whitsun

When one of the cleaners stood on a desk

Against all Health and Safety directives

And gleefully disposed of the last lingering

Memory of Christmas.

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Still Life

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Thirty-One