At this time of year
Climbing up in the loft
Disturbing the rock-wool
Oh how we both coughed

Sorting through boxes
Not seen for a year
Some once held fresh eggs
And others once beer

Now they hold trimmings
Last year’s decorations
Found in old boxes
For new celebrations

Three hundred fairy-lights
In a big tangled ball
Green wreath for the door
At the end of our hall

Six foot of fir tree
That doesn’t need planting
Dragged through the loft hatch
Leave both of us panting

We spread out its branches
With optical glow
Plugged into the power
Its colours to show

Strands of lamenter
In bronze, gold and red
To hang from the tree
Or use tinsel instead

Baubles from years ago
Each with a story
Hung by our children
To shine in their glory

At this time of year
Using old decorations
A yuletides complete
Full of great expectations


© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles