I cannot Sing with Bing

At this time of year

Anxiety takes a solid grip

Life becomes fraught

And I cannot sing

Away with Bing

When he dreams of a White Christmas

I dream

Of a quiet Christmas

Where drunken louts

Do not patrol our streets

At night

Mangulating letterboxes

Smashing bottles

And my sleep

To smithereens

I dream of Boxing Day

When all the fuss

And cooking

Can be viewed

In retrospect

A job well done

We’ve made it through

For another year

I’ve heard from all

My annual friends

Who live so far away

So Bing

You may sing

Of coming home

To mistletoe

And lots of snow

And presents under the tree

In my house

You’ll sing alone

I’ll be watching cricket

 

Copyright Dec 2012

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