The Magic of Christmas

Videos of surprised faces as pressies are opened; before and after pics of dinner, the pudding, and various alcoholic drinks likewise. All delivered instantaneously; not shown half-arsed six weeks down the line as they were before.

Even footage of everyone sitting around watching TV, in the process being sure to show what’s being watched: why the Hell not? – it is Christmas after all!

Not just from those nearest and dearest, but also all the people who, if it wasn’t for social media, might’ve been dead for all that could’ve been known. Old school friends; former drinking buddies; prior work colleagues; rarely seen in the flesh relatives.

Them and theirs in full feed-flowing Christmas glory!

It’s like being at a hundred gatherings all at once, face lit with candles, eyes wet with feeling ‘blessed‘ and all the other waffle coming with the time of year magnified ad infinitum. No wonder I feel so worn-out.

This is about Christmas, the connections only kept thanks to social media and—my, haven’t they grown—some of the thoughts that can come from seeing long-ago faces.

I met your dad once
Few times in fact
A bit of a lad
Of who you’re the spit
In size, height and looks
But suspect you’re sick
Of hearing ‘bout that
You were still young
Then he was gone
Rose petals falling
Tulips calling
Far off yonder
Looking for new cracks
Ways to squander
Women to plunder
You and your sister
Just like that

Thanks for reading 🙂

N. P. Ryan.


Next in vs. Poetry: Dieting 17th Century Style
Last in vs. Poetry: Winter is Coming


Header image: Christmas Coopers

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