Yuletide Fire
behind the logs on this crackling fire
the dulcet sound of a distant choir
wakes up the child and times in me
like lights around a Christmas tree
and takes me back when sixties' chills
left ice inside our window sills
when Jesus lay behind the door
of advent's number twenty four
when the greatest present that we had
was the presence of both mum and dad
when love and laughter fun and games
lit up the room just like these flames
that dance each year to times gone by
before they flicker, fade and die.
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