not just obsessed Poet Free verse

Bless the season

When this day fell 12 months ago,
I remember swearing on a new blessed oath.
I couldn’t bear the thought of another year alone, another year of solitude where I’m scared of my phone. 
I dreamt of my hand being held through the cold
or the mornings by the fire, where warmth never gets old.
I could picture a calendar with a thousand scribbled plans,
I could hear the bustle of the bar and its band.
When the night would end, I’d feel the squeeze of a hand,
as we ventured on home, to our safe promised land.
Then the morning would come, with everyone around 
we’d gather by the green, humming dulcet sounds 
inspired by the radio, that’s on far too loud.
The paper in our hands would not be a fraction
of our comfort, of our satisfaction. 
Because we knew we were there, in this moment we’d share and just like the others, we’d bless every flair.
But now I’m awake, so harsh and so heavy
the months have flown by and it’s Christmas already
I watch all the hopefuls and how they bless this season
yet part of me feels like I don’t have a reason 
to feel quite so merry, when my bed sits so empty. 
I can’t think of a time where I’ve been let down gently. 
I know what will happen this time around,
this is what happens every year, I’ve found.
I’ll sit as one island, I’ll clasp my glass close.
I’ll swallow those memories, brought to me by the ghost
and then the next day when it’s come to an end, 
I’ll swear on that oath, again and again.

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