Merry

  

It’s a word which only comes out at Christmas.

 

As for the rest of the year,

it’s as if it has been packed away in the attic

with the decorations and the tinsel,

waiting for its own time to shine.

 

Rarely do we play well with it.

We do not let it loose for birthdays

or anniversaries; only in error does it intrude

on the happiness of a new year.

 

But at Christmas, it emerges blinking

into the light, red-cheeked and perky,

in a perfect state of mild inebriation,

writing itself into Christmas cards,

 

greeting friends on doorsteps,

embracing family before they take off their shoes,

warming strangers on icy pavements.

Merry Christmas, we say. Merry Christmas.

—Brian Bilston

[Merry Christmas Eve with friends and neighbors].