where children yearn for them beyond the Glass
but cannot reach them anymore
and bring no Father Christmas but the cyber snowman at the end of
the pageant.to make us forget who
we adore, who adored us too.
but we will forage for old presents
somehow, still in crisp wrappings
with all the trappings
the stockings stuffed with oranges and sweets.
the world is not often sweet
why should they want Christmas to behave
to colour within the lines so barely
red and green to the point of fading from view
and drive, and drive it on minus the reindeer, anything,
minus the cherry o caroling and far from the public squares.
listen to me! you will not do this.
the Star will staunchly us defend
and the skies grow purple silkscreened
once again falling fold on fold
for the Wise Men
who still must labor
though you would not have it so
to find the uncrowned King
born for our recompense
and make sweet remedy
and o Jesu clear melody
comprised of starriness starriness
for His distress.
mary angela dougas 5 march 2016