A Christmas Poem (sorta)

December 19, 2011

‘Tis the week before Christmas and throughout the land

We’re shopping and driving and making big plans

For family reunions and holiday cheer

With hopes for some snowflakes and weather that’s clear.

The Snowbirds are circling; their flocks swiftly grow.

They line up at Customs: the post-Christmas show.

They drive south in convoy, the like you won’t see,

To trailers in Florida, cheap houses and free,

“An endless vacation with friends from round here.

Our dollar is rich. We have months without fear

Of Florida hospitals, for OHIP will pay

‘Til April’s return to our gardens and play.”

With all the elections the signs are worn out.

The pundits keep writing; the Tories must tout

Their latest achievements with PMO rule,

For democracy’s finished. The MPs look bored.

They’re ignorant and arrogant and mostly ignored.

While Senators are playing their way through the East,

Concussions are hurting the visual feast

Of hockey like ballet. The best of the best

Are sitting on sidelines from murderous hits.

Enforcers are dying: brain lesions and drugs.

Each saw a career if he acts like a thug.

The great game’s in danger:  inertia’s the threat.

They can’t make it safer: the violence gets

The fans in the boxes, the sponsors in line,

And another career ends – a trifling fine.

The point’s not to solve things in rhymes such as this,

But rather to show how, though much is amiss,

There’s many amongst us who put up quite a show.

They love what life brings them: a positive glow

Surrounds what they do, and they greet life with a smile.

We saw a young artisan who showed us this view.

She makes stained glass windows so brave and so new.

While the young woman shapes these bright fragments of light

Her cats loll on counters and grin at the sight

Of fresh hands to pat them.  Her shop is a place

Of warmth and contentment, and artistic grace.

Perhaps the solution to winter’s sad drift

Lies in the activity and even the thrift

It takes for a project to come to fruition:

Commitment and effort, and even emotion.

So let’s not get upset with Ottawa’s drift.

We’ll deal with it later, and try not to shift

Our attitudes right to match Harper’s great plan

To scare us with justice and burn down the land

With oil sands and pipelines and shipments out West

Past Prince Rupert Sound in oil tankers, no less.

Instead let’s be thankful, and busy and glad.

This time in this great land there’s joy to be had.

The lakes have just frozen.  The air’s crisp and clear.

Put on your long undies and pull Winter near.

It can’t take your bear hug, but soon melts away.

The nights will grow shorter, and each passing day:

With friends you grow stronger.  The prospect of play

On frozen expanses of ice and of snow

Inspires us to action. The maples soon grow,

But first there’s the syrup, that warm, glowing taste!

The smell captures our memories and so we make haste

To get out the buckets, the pan and the gear.

It’s our way of knowing that spring is soon near.

So send me no invites to Florida down there.

Don’t bug me with politics.  I just cannot care.

Keep Cherry off Hockey:  that’s just fine with me,

But don’t miss the dog sleds — and ice fishing’s free.


Best wishes to all,

Rod and Bet Croskery


2 Responses to “A Christmas Poem (sorta)”

  1. tony izatt Says:

    Very cool. Well done.

  2. Brent Loken Says:

    HI Rod,

    You are a very entertaining read.

    I grew up in the area and our family has an acreage on which we are interested in planting black walnut. As I was researching the subject I naturally googled ‘Westport’ and ‘black walnut’. Thus I stumbled on your blog.

    I wondered if you could contact me via e-mail. I am interested in having a look at some mature trees in the area and thought you could probably point me in the right direction. In particular – the trees planted by Dr. Goodfellow.

    Thanks for all the info on the blog & please keep on posting!

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