On Christmas Eve children believe that Santa Claus will come
And on his sleigh, or so they say, he bears their gifts and fun,
While countless cards try so hard to convey love, peace and goodwill
While charity seems to be given that the hungry have their fill.
All of this is given from belief that for Christmas Day
The world will be a better place, and so many people pray
For peace, goodwill and other things that they care not for in the year
But for this time, for unto them it is eternally dear.
This strange belief makes me ask myself; what do I believe?
Do I believe in all the good that my mind can conceive?
I know not but I know as I write poetry on my own
I believe I pity all those who don’t choose to be alone.
This is the first of a set of daily updates between now and New Year’s Day. I decided that this would be the best way to apologise for my tardiness in publishing Give Me Back the Magic, although you seem to have enjoyed that. I’m pleased to note that the Weekly Writing Challenge is, in fact, exactly what I was doing anyway. I hope, as ever, that you enjoy the onrush of festive poetry coming your way, and that it brings you some pleasure. As ever, feel free to tell your friends, and to tell me what you think.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic