Paper Chains

There are three of us in this relationship:
You, me, and the ghost of Christmas past…

On Christmas Eve we open the attic
Fetch tired tinsel and paper chains

Ignoring the knots that hold them together
We stretch them from corner to corner again.

We wait until eight before opening bottles
A scotch for my father, a gin for your mum

A mince pie for Santa, a carrot for Rudolph
Two glasses of port when the sprouts have been done.

We wake the next morning and wait for the children –
Grown-up children, with kids of their own

We make the right noises as presents are opened
Hugs on the step when it’s time to go home.

We wave to the car as it turns at the corner
Then back to the T. V., the fire and wine

Some cheese and a port as the clock moves to midnight
Then back up the stairs with another year done.


There are three of us in this relationship:
You, me and the ghost of Christmas past.
The ghost is the knot that keeps us together
That stops us from tearing each other apart.



11 thoughts on “Paper Chains”

    1. Christmas blogs and posts do tend to get a bit saccharine the closer you get to the big day, don’t they? Having said that, I realised after putting this poem up that I’ve now posted three bits in a row that make me sound like the Grinch who stole Christmas!

      I will try to redress that balance next week with some feelgood Haiku, and for the 12 days leading up to Christmas Eve I’m hoping to get access to Santa’s Blog again via my Magic Modem. Thanks for comment πŸ™‚

  1. I like the way the last verse reflects the beginning with the knots and the idea of stretching and tearing of paper chains. It’s very well written. I normally find your posts funny (although admittedly I only found your blog recently) but this made me feel quite mournful. It feels like there’s a lot simmering below the surface!

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