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Poem

As long as I can remember
came Christmas cards in December -
     my aunts back home to thank.
With glad tidings at yuletide 
      and always tucked away inside
      a cheque from Barclays Bank.

Looking back as I live and muse
on Boxing Day I’d gamble and lose
       on some pony my bet to lay.
In the birdcage or at the tote
   my losing ticket stubs in my coat
        but I’d be back on Cup Day.

Playing poker and alley pool
on our summer break before school
      I would either win big or rue.
Like when on my merry way
     for a brand shiny new LP to play
  off I’d go to Record Rendezvous.

And from the Sweet Briar fairy
came a birthday card in late January
      just a few short weeks hence.
Which was a master stroke
        for by then I was always broke
 as I had more dollars than sense.

As long as this heart of mine
hearkens a carol at Christmas time
         or candles a long age bode…
I’ll remember a season’s joy
    and all the many cards as a boy
       I got from Sweet Briar Road.


        Written: January 2018

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