A few days to Christmas

Six sorry looking taxis standing in a rank

Five days to go but

Only four small turkeys left at the butchers.

Three ducks scooting across the water, surely cold.

Two bag laden Christmas shoppers, heads bowed into the drizzle

A grey December day, never in sight of the sun

And there’s the traffic, why do they do it?

 

There is really only one place to be

And that is at home in front of the fire

 

The cards are dispatched, logs piled up by the back door

Plenty of time yet to get the big shop done,

Turkey ordered and a couple of parties to come.

The chink of glasses and the cheery sounds

Open that bottle of malt and pass it round

Mince pies smell of brandy