Decorations are in shop windows
yuletide music is all we can hear.
Pretty lights shine in the town centre
making it feel like Christmas is here.

Plans are made for friends to meet
to celebrate with food and beer.
Neighbours are putting up trees
making it feel like Christmas is here.

Soldiers have come home on leave
kissing loved ones, shedding a tear.
People travel to be with families
making it feel like Christmas is here.

The lies are dressed
In little pinks tutus.

The scorn is ready
For the masquerade.

The canary in the mine
Turns out to be
A hummingbird.

The butterfly in my tummy,
A bee.

The laugh really is
A stiffled moan;
The tear is shed for sorrow.
The sun is gone because the night
Will breed a bleaker tomorrow

The lies are dressed
In little pinks tutus.

The scorn is ready
For the masquerade.

The canary in the mine
Turns out to be
A hummingbird.

The butterfly in my tummy,
A bee.

The laugh really is
A stiffled moan;
The tear is shed for sorrow.
The sun is gone because the night
Will breed a bleaker tomorrow

Sirens.
Night and day. Day and night,
interrupting the silence with its severe music.
It's the city and we share the same space. C-town
never sleeps in its emergent paths; what makes
news, to whom and who cares enough to go along
for the ride.

The world, my friend, is a long-distance runner, running until
there's no more time. Don't we hold on to each second like
unwilling warriors, consoling the hours?

We all have to learn
The nuances
Of how to pave our ways
Through this poetic site

You rarely visit my page
Gradually you shall become
As adept as I have,
To meander the courses here,
Like a serpent avoiding
The machinations of wiles

So let be it your stance too,
You will learn a trick or two,
Praise is all we hanker for,
No not I alone, nor you
Is an exception, that’s true?

I still have your number in my phone,
I re-read our letters every night I come home.
I've checked a thousand times to see if you've called,
But the final stage of grieving is only being stalled.
I still smell your cologne every now and then,
When I do it's very faint and thin.
It's like a part of you still remains with me,
Only I cannot see.
I stare out the window hoping I see you walk up the driveway,
But yet I only see the end of another day.
A soft voice wakes me in the middle of the night,

Gently disintegrate me
Said nothing at all.
 
Is there still time to say
Said I myself lying
In a bower of bramble
Into which I have fallen.
 
Look through my eyes up
At blue with not anything
We could have ever arranged
Slowly taking place.
 
Above the spires of the fox
Gloves and above the bracken
Tops with their young heads
Recognising the wind,
The armies of the empty
Blue press me further
Into Zennor Hill.
 
If I half-close my eyes

The lantern of the sky shows up there
Its brilliance shines down here
Everybody stood up and rejoice
For the king’s torch has come around

Tok–odo–dio… tok-odo–dio
Children troop to the play ground
Young men clap their hands
The girls sing and dance along

Dance and choose somebody
Point to the one after your heart
Select those with very long legs
Select those with big stomach

Dance and choose somebody
Select those with big heads
Select those with fine faces
Point to the one after your heart

It was a strange turn of affairs
We had seen each other a few times
In the local pub
Spoken a couple of times
In the street
She was attractive
No, not attractive
Absolutely gorgeous
Way out of my league
So I thought,
She had taste
She had style
And, the body of a goddess
Then, out of a clear blue sky,
Actually it was night time,
She held my hand
Squeezed it gently
I turned
Looked into her eyes,
Suddenly I saw
And that was it
Pow!
I was
Smitten

Come on it’s Christmas, let yourself go
plenty of other days for trouble and woe.
It’s not always easy to push troubles away
but at least you could try it, just for a day.

Christmas is hard, when your heart is sore
but let all its sparkle, bring light to your door.
With little children’s faces beaming so bright
just thinking that Santa, had called last night.