The wreath faces the wind and rain,
Yet beauty endures through the strain.
Its evergreen hue,
Says, “Hope’s ever true,”
Still steadfast through snow’s white domain.
The wreath faces the wind and rain,
Yet beauty endures through the strain.
Its evergreen hue,
Says, “Hope’s ever true,”
Still steadfast through snow’s white domain.
The lights are a tangle on the floor,
I’ve untwisted them a hundred times or more.
They blink, then they die,
and I heave a deep sigh:
“I’ll just have to buy some more.”
I wonder what’s behind door five?
The magic of mornings revive:
A truffle? A toy?
Some small spark of joy?
It’s chocolate again: my waist won’t survive!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year,
With merriment and good cheer.
The tree’s looking grand,
With baubles well-planned,
And hope warms the dark of the year.
You’ve heard of Elf on the Shelf?
Personally, I haven’t myself.
Reminders to be good:
They’re misunderstood!
I’m not compelled by a toy elf!
The tree lights twinkle through the gloom,
A promise that joy will resume.
Though long is the night,
There glows still a light,
That whispers of hope to the room.
The advent candle has begun to burn,
For tinsel and carols we do yearn!
The stockings we’ll fill,
With cheer and goodwill,
As winter to wonder does turn.
This advent I’ve cooked up a scheme:
A limerick-a-day Christmas dream.
Some naughty, some nice,
All punchy and concise:
A rhyme-fuelled December regime!
Prepare for a festive endeavour:
A limerick each day—aren’t I clever?
From one up to twenty-four,
Then a final encore…
It’s the best Limerick countdown ever.
That neighbour’s got lights on the shed,
Round the chimney, the bins, and the bed.
Before winter’s begun,
They’ve outshone the sun:
It’s a wonder their fuse box’s not dead!