A Leicestershire Christmas memory


Six days, six nights, or
Twelve days and twelve nights
Dylan Thomas spoke of Christmas
Snow in his childhood Welsh home;
Thomas remembers festive snow,
But I cannot,
My Memory defective
Or am I just slightly selective?

But Christmas is not just snow,
It is the happy voices of children,
Presents worn or played with
That is my memory of Christmas,
The pork pie breakfast, Stilton and Piccalilli
Turkey roasting in the oven with chestnuts,
(Or on an open fire, Jack nipping at your nose)
Sherry, trifle and chocolate liquors,
And Eric and Ernie arseing about on the TV

And then the films

Dream White Christmas
(You never doubted Betty would come back),
A 34th Street Miracle
proving once and for all that Santa really does exist,
Cue Colin and Renée
Outside that stationers
Snow swirling around
But of course fake for the cameras,
And at a door Hugh sings a carol for children,
(But no snow Actually)

Christmas Tree
Excuse for you stealing a crafty kiss
With that girl in your class you’ve always fancied,
(Or for Aunt Fanny to kiss you, yuk!)

So it might snow for six days and six nights,
Or twelve days and twelve nights,
But snow or no,
Christmas is a package of memories
Something to get you through the dark times
And we all have many of those

Remember Christmas
Keep it in your heart,
Don’t let the joy you feel pass
As the season and you in January part

This was originally written for a charity book my daughter was to edit and publish this Christmas, but unfortunately through lack of copy the book never happened; a disappointment to her and me. Still waste mot, want not I decided to publish it here.