Smoke and Mirrors

Christmas (But not as we know it.)

I came upon the wise men three

Who offered me advice for free.

The first one told me God was real,

The second told me how to feel,

The third one asked me if I could spare a cigarette.

The Angels huddled in the corner,

One played a horn, another a harp,

The third used a golden pipe 

To sniff up some dust

To clear his nose.

The shepherds watched the clock

By night,

A drop to keep the cold out,

Theirs's by right.

Santa sat not far away

Warm and snug in his old sleigh.

Hot reindeer sandwiches he ate

No mince pies this year, his fate.

The elves were all off on furlough.

Social distance is the rule

This pandemic is no fool.

Christmas we must truly save

And bear the cost of early grave.

NB It appears that this socio/religious festival

is worth the risk of losing a few hundred souls, as long, that is,

That they are not our souls.

This does not apply only to the festival of Christmas, I'm sure it would apply to any religious festival.

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Owain Glyn