Tis the Season

Dust off Auld Lang Syne;
hang some carols on the tree 
and dress it in colourful baubles of lights. 

Gather up fresh dreams
and old memories neatly around the fireplace
then wrap them in oodles of laughter.
Tie the soft smiles into a large red bow 
to dangle above the door 
so everyone can see
Tis the Season.

Find the bright scented candles
that dance and levitate like stars.
For I must scale the backs of nights to float in the sky.
I want to soar with Santa’s reindeer 
and feel their feet scratch the surface of the moon.
I want to race Father time slowly 
and walk unclothed
amongst silhouettes of trees lounging in the park.
I want to kick up powdery white dust that form tiny snowmen
and hug toasty memories to remember 
everything I need to forget.

Quilt me thick blankets of conversations, 
embroidered with yuletide songs
to warm my face’s shoulders.
No time for regrets!  No tears!
Just let me laze by the warm glistening hearth filled with cheer
and hear fire logs crackle like fireflies.

I want to see children giggle
and play in the vivid shade of trees decorated with the scents of Christmas.
I want to watch the hours hatch gifts in technicolour and dissemble.
For, Tis the Season to be jolly.

Remember to hang the stockings, 
and line them with love.
But leave the question marks on the floor. 
Santa could use them
when he skips down the chimney
or slides pass the locked balcony doors.

I will wait beside the mistletoe, 
eyes clasped…
After all, Tis the season!

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