All For This Xmas Poem by Alan HannenLange

Sad I wasn't born when the wind
and the snow blew in the blue of Winter.
Glassy bright, not even when the apples
On the trees grew the hue of red.
'Twas the idle side of Summer, monstrous sun-silk,
When I took root in the ground.
Where the old Oak tree stood I rose to meet it,
The best was honey and milk.
Yet it was all for this Xmas.

But lo! Hwaet! as saith the Saxon;
Winter carries Xmas and all the cake and whisky and more;
Thomas Hardy and all rustic folk fond of their drinking,
Carolling ring-around making a chorus Xmas sound.
What a fulsome noise, if it be told, barking & those braying
Bairns bruising our heads; Oh the hurting!
Orchestras of Horns, Trumpets, female choirs, an unkind goddess or two,
Cyder girls join with oozing of songs and a ‘ho, ho' to hoot.
Some I enjoy, some… yet good that Xmas blows snow-flake like;
A simple fall, an hour of life, a melting, then gone to earth.

Nay, saith the Snowman, give me a blizzard of snow,
A coat of hoary frost, a few red-breasted Robins, a donkey, a baa-lamb,
A branch of holly, twigs of mistletoe,
A kiss with a peck or two from a pretty girl.
Gaze, oceans of stars, Heaven-ward, as blue
As the Prussian, shiver, twinkle bright.
All, all, let this New Year, multitude of prizes,
Bless, with jumpers, bras, socks, all the right sizes;
Books, with good words, the right words, bringing visionary light.
Dappled with joy & feasting, with a sprinkling
Of fairy-dust in the night.