Wassail
Fir trees droop and brightly glisten,
street lamps cast their glow, and listen!
sounds of singing drifting lightly
o'er the air, as children sprightly
fashion snowmen, fat and jolly,
wrapped in scarves and sprigs of holly;
horse-drawn coaches softly clip-clop
down the road and past the grog shop,
revellers in gay abandon,
merry-making to distraction!
Wind-bussed faces pressed to windows,
Christmas gifts in festive red bows,
all regale this night of wonder,
misery is cast asunder!
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009
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