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Thursday, 24 December 2020

A Christmas Poem

The tree is up, the air is chilled,
the candles snuffed, the stockings filled.

The night is quiet, dense and pure
and morning will be great, I'm sure.

Yet we forget about the few
without a home, or feeling blue.

But all year long, there's help at hand
charities, shelters; all well-manned.

Few also think of those away
at war, in care or for the day.

But at this season of the year,
we should all stand together, here.

Although this year it may be hard,
I say, "Our Christmas Won't Be Marred!"

Let's deck the halls, and keep our distance.
Goodnight to all, and Merry Christmas!

---

For context, this was written on 13/12/20, during the 2020 coronavirus pandemic.

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