But is it true, your season of goodwill?
When it is deemed acceptable
to weigh down frugal men with chains;
for shrill choruses of children
to daily wassail this, my oyster life –
which left alone is growing pearls.
Each squirreled penny is an honest one;
I’ve not grown fat on tax evasion.
Your plentiful prisons – they're all paid for!
Why go rattling dread ironmongery?
Sorrows are certain, contagion sure –
claiming otherwise is pure humbuggery.
A pox on your dismal invitation
to draw my curtains, walk abroad.
Darkness is cheap; the slipshod herd
wants no crutch to dance and merrymake.
Neglect shrouds every gravestone in the end.
A shrewd heart is its own brazier.
xii. 2022
