"It's almost Christmas,"
I say in my head
on a January night
as I lie in my bed.
Yes, almost Christmas -
that's what I believe.
So what if it's 11 months
till Christmas Eve?
Although there may be
300+ shopping days,
I'll be thinking of snow
in the midsummer haze
and the showers of spring
and the leaf fall of autumn,
I'll be thinking of presents -
even after I've bought 'em.
And mulled wine, and chestnuts,
and honey-glazed ham,
and nights sat up late
with my Dad and my Mam.
Frostbitten train rides
without a spare seat;
a two-hour journey
spent on my feet.
And, when I get there,
a loving embrace,
and a week without worry
to slow down the pace.
So, almost Christmas -
so no need to fear
for the 11-or-so months
of the rest of the year.
Just keep my mind
on the Christmas to come,
and the nights sat up late
with my Dad and my Mum.