Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.119.143.52

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

In tinsel time the bells do chime. 
We deck the halls and shopping malls
with plastic bough and holly wreath. 
The conjured tricks that lie beneath 
the plastic magic make-believe 
pull cheap tradition from the empty sleeve
and, with the angel chorus on demand,
demand the payment of the damned 
by overdraft and plastic cards, 
with season's greetings and regards 
for Christmas Joy and Yuletide Cheer; 
the end of one more bloody year.

In tinsel time the bells do chime
the dance of money and the mime
of love's best giving soon forgot.
And in each cardboard palace, hot
inside each borrowed suit of red,
each Father Christmas pats the head
of every child, drags out the lie;
and so the holy days go by
and fall beneath the pounds and pence
that parents value more than sense.
The harlot traders rub their hands and cheer
the end of one more bloody year.

In tinsel time the bells do chime 
and all rejoice and with one voice
proclaim, disclaim, complain the lack 
of honesty in Santa's sack. 
The parties drag from pub to pub 
and end up at somebody's club 
and after, in the morning pain, 
the disenchanted mutter "not again" 
and stagger through another day 
but then, again, go out to play; 
Until, at last, the bells they cheer
that start another bloody year.

Kim James 
12/12/95

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required