Christmas Values
Black, rubber tyres cutting through puddles,
Crumpled up chatter, jamming my ears,
Walls with loud voices drumming up echoes,
Curdled expressions embracing the years.
Colourful lights intermittently pulsing,
Conveying a message of visual notes,
Christmas is welcomed by cloth caps and pigeons,
And casual labour in Santa Claus coats.
“Spare me a farthing,” said Christ in his afghan,
“And I’ll play you a tune on my fiddle and bow”,
And a man who made millions from spruce trees and tinsel,
Went wandering by, gazing down at the snow.
Crumpled up chatter, jamming my ears,
Walls with loud voices drumming up echoes,
Curdled expressions embracing the years.
Colourful lights intermittently pulsing,
Conveying a message of visual notes,
Christmas is welcomed by cloth caps and pigeons,
And casual labour in Santa Claus coats.
“Spare me a farthing,” said Christ in his afghan,
“And I’ll play you a tune on my fiddle and bow”,
And a man who made millions from spruce trees and tinsel,
Went wandering by, gazing down at the snow.