Vehicles in myriads transporting the nation
Intent on gathering round yuletide hearth.
Annual homing, pilgrim migration
Decides. when arriving, Christmas can start.
...
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Really enjoyed this, Fay.There's a bit of all of us in there.So glad I'm poor and sales mean nothing.We already have what we need most and should often exchange it, but never take it back.Another definite ten.Kev x
May I say Amen to this one - wittily and cleverly constructed. How grotesquely obscene is this gluttony of consumption (and now we're being asked to do it for the 'economy' for God's sake!) . What happened to the notion of delayed gratification? Of looking 'forward' to? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I have never been to a Boxing Day sale. It was never part of my family's agenda. After Christmas day, all I want to do is STOP! ~ I guess this is why I continue to have such a mixed emotional reaction to Christmas and all the hype that precedes and follows it. At least those who follow cricket can enjoy the Boxing Day test. Great poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This describes the Boxing day I have just had perfectly! Were you here? ? ? ?
Fantastic poem Fay yes I think you have just about got it right 10+++++ Chris
Great poem Fay....you have caught it so well here...thanks for sharing...Fi
Finely crafted and very much to the point. The way your poem keeps circling around to Sales is exactly the bludgeoning that we experience each holiday season. [I never go to a store on boxing day. I'll be damned before I'll shop on my birthday! ]