Outside, the wind circles and dances round the house and fields
rain lashes the window panes.
Inside, the fire hisses and pops and Fluffy filled with turkey
slumbers under the Christmas tree …
sparkling and glittering with lights and baubles
Only a thin fox struggles for its footing returning hungry
down the country lane – watched by a lonesome owl
too soaked to hoot.
So Boxing Day teeters towards midnight
and fast approaching bells of a brand New Year.
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?’
m.joy
(to Daddy from all of us)
sunnypolarbear 