December is here with its Christmas cheer. Heat waves shimmer and dance
In the still, hot trance of noon.
Lights glimmer on branches of Christmas trees, In front yards, and on homes. In the evening breeze We sit in the cool ‘neath the moon.
In the early hours fall summer showers. Then lorikeets come in the morning sun To sip sweet treat from the flowers.
The magpie and thrush sing in the hush. We retreat by the day when it’s still on the bay To our air-conditioned bowers.
In the dining hall there’s a tree ornate, And the tables are festive and merry.
There are streamers and balls and kids decorate Hall doors with garlands of holly.
There’s planning and hiding and wrapping. Gifts under the tree pile high,
With grand-parents conspiring and swapping, As they hunt and select and buy.
There’s the sound of the organ piping “Silent Night” down the halls in the evening. There’s sweet voices of children singing Carols in Christmas greeting.
Yuletide lasts for a week at the Village. Excitement builds with the heat.
Kids can’t wait wrapped gifts to pillage. There’s the sound of light, eager feet In the halls, and shrieks of delight,
All building to Santa’s arrival
On Eve-of-Christmas night.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Santa’s been and bestowed each gift. The thrill of waiting is past.
We need a moment to lift
Our spirits. It’s Christmas at last
The day the world shares with us
But my rejoicing is done.
Christmas Day and the children have gone. It’s the end of my fun.
In the summer heat I mean to retreat To the cool of my flat, and that’s that.