Christmas, I remember, <br />Was the only time the fire was lit all day. <br />Da lit it real early with twists of the Evening Press, <br />Bits of broken wood, and coal brought from the <br />Backyard in the ashbucket. <br /> <br />The room was warm, flickering. <br />Once a year smells of Nutmeg, Spice and <br />Stale Guinness mixed with coal smoke, Pine, <br />And White Pudding. <br />Everything was lit up, for breakfast! <br /> <br />Red and white chains of Crissed Crossed Crepe <br />Hung from light to ceiling corners. <br />Cards on the mantle, Holly Berries over the picture <br />Of The Big Fella’, and The Sacred Heart. <br />And the Christmas Tree had <br />Cottonwoolballsnow. <br /> <br />The path was frosted white on the way out to the lav. <br />I rode my big wheel trike, squeaky, on the lino. <br />“Triumph”, was written in old fashioned <br />silver letters on the red metal bars. <br />I was five then, Full of Joy. <br /> <br />It was happy and warm that <br />Christmas, I remember.<br /><br />Martin Swords<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/joyful-and-triumphant/
