X-Mas Eve
Christmas, is many things one often thinks,
Sitting by a roaring log fire in a cosy room, some family to play the part of company,
For others it is about winter’s wakening, the frost trees, the sharp leaves,
The crunching under foot of snow, pearl white to the eye, cold as the ocean in the dead of night,
Some choose to spend it alone, driving endlessly, through winding mountain paths,
Pulling up by some trees, silhouettes against the star strewn sky, and stepping out, then walking in to that thick, black forest, a lonely soul, the soldier never to return,
Tonight I walk with a pack strapped to my back, head down, and the hat covers my eyes,
Somewhere in a lonely valley I hear a train rattle by, and on board many smiling faces talk, whilst drinking hot cocoa, about the things they feel the man shall bring,
The ears of a wolf prick and stand to attention as those tracks and wheels shudder through the coldest December night,
Muffled voices nearby, they tell me something and yet I ask why?
How come everybody in this one particular night crowds around so happy awe struck by candle light?
Then the answer comes, along with a gust through the trees, everybody has somebody, everybody except me,
Perhaps, I think, if I had somebody to spend it with things would be different, there would be gifts to open, food to eat and a warm bed in which to sleep,
But for now all those things are kept behind locked, wooden doors and frosty glass windows,
I keep on walking and hoping and drinking,
That brandy from the hip flask down on my side keeps me in tight arms protected from the cold on this winter’s night,
And as the train slides by, winding through the mountain’s heart with those merry faces all playing their part,
I begin to think of only one thing as I wrap up and try to sleep by the motherly tree,
I think that just perhaps, just maybe the man shall come to me tonight and leave me the gift I have forever dreamt of,
The gift of Love, and to be back in your arms.
Love PTxx.
