This Christmas night, how still we are

Lain in sand, orphaned, loved and landed

As she, amongst the waves, beckons

With a raised hand; the tempting sea


We sing like there is nothing better to do

Except dance; and vice versa

Somewhere around the second verse

We were hooked, on loop, unable

To stop the music


We put on these things, finery

Of a fashion, reality woven like tartan

Our fabric tears a little and

Bears more, and wears


We talk so long into the morning

That now, even the night is yawning

So off with us all, we fly, away

And one may wish, and one may stay

But really, who was ever here anyway?


We dance that dance, sing that song

And in these things we may belong


January 2015 Derek Wilson

~ by Derek Wilson on January 31, 2015.

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