I’ve put away the tinsel, the lights, the Christmas scene,
I’ve tidied up the clutter and vacuumed, swept and cleaned.
I’ve fingered cards from loved ones, with messages sincere,
Placing memories in boxes – stored for another year.
With bins all overflowing, rubbish blowing down the lane,
The wind takes the recycling – the bin men aren’t to blame.
‘The days are drawing out now,’ a neighbour says to me,
Walking swiftly down the lane to throw off lethergy.
Inside the ravaged kitchen, order is restored;
The calendar turned to this new day – its motto quite ignored.
I do not want to play the fool and hope for better things –
Content within, I envy not the ‘Palaces of Kings’.
As each year brings its challenges, its hopes, its joys, its fears,
There’ll be enough to cope with, without sentimental tears.
So, as Christmas decorations disappear into the loft
I’ll run and catch my friend up – to prove I’ve not gone soft!