Christmas Poem Poem by Rosalita Fern

I know this is the wrong time of year.
To be writting,
Or thinking of the best time of year.
When everyone even though stressed and worried,
still are happy and vibrant.
When the carole singers sing a heavenly tune.
When every shop has their music loud and sales people sing to the songs they have heard a million times.
The red, and greens gold and silver
Spring from every window, room and space.
Every family,
On the eve of christmas,
run their rituals,
spanning generations.
Children anxiously awaiting for the barer of gifts, Father Christmas.
Seasons greetings everyone sounds,
Sales assistants long for their home time.
12 oclock strikes....
everyday trials and tribulations forgoten,
for that one day of freedom-
Called

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas to you all.