Christmas Spirit – Poem

It’s fast approaching that magical, once of a kind time of year,
Yet I am feeling a serious lack of festive, merry cheer.
Normally, I jump up, lead an army and march on through,
Yet this year, through bad spirits, my army is too few.
Consisting of people who bumble through the same day,
As if there’s nothing special and there’s no magic on the sleigh.

The mantle has fallen to me, to make the time come alive,
But with Scrooges all around, how can my cheer survive?
Games and drinks, food plated up as all sit around the tree,
Is there much point of festive merriness when the army is but three?
Nine years ago, I sat with trepidation of what the day would bring,
With the breakdown of my family and the loss of my kin.

Once again, trepidation and fear fill me that my spirit is not enough,
That I can’t inspire two humbugs when they can call my threat’s bluff.
When I awaken early, ready to see what the reindeer’s have brought,
And am faced with those who’d rather present tallys nearer nought.
When I want the roast, the pudding, the drinks with all of the trimmings,
And their lack of desire will cause my eyes to start brimming.

Routine and custom is always a safety net there behind me,
Should I force and cajole, risking that either them or I could flee?
That one day, every year, is the most special, the most unique,
Yet my army are mutinying and declaring me for a freak.
And all my other dreams are fading fast into the dying day,
Yet all I want is childhood, laughter and a day to play.

© Persephone M 21st November 2011

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