Snow Globe

At Christmas families are reunited

Even those members you’d prefer weren’t invited

We stress over food, presents and reindeer sighted

                Then convince ourselves it’s a holiday.

When recalling childhood memories, though

It’s not the obtrusive fairy light glow

Or even going out to play in the snow;

                These aren’t the sensations that stay.

It’s watching the joy on small surprised faces

And hiding presents in imaginative places.

It’s still (in March) finding pine needle traces

                And four o clock starts on the day.

And as the wheel turns with each passing year

And fewer of the older generation are here

Best wishes seem bluer and much less sincere

At least, it can feel that way.

Atheists exercise gluttonous proclivity

While Christians celebrate the nativity

And merchants are anxious about consumer inactivity

                And old folk on their own alone stay.

Perhaps instead of the giving of stuff

We should realize the giving of time is enough

Spend some of your working with folk sleeping rough

                Prevent police from taking their things away.

Each year the Belarusian children come

For a time of laughter and presents and fun

Without your support this could never be done

                This is the spirit of the season at play.

Give what is needed and where it’s deserved

Forget any grudges, forgive what’s occurred

Nurture warm feelings when they are stirred

                Don’t let sadness turn red and green memories grey.