The Seven Days of Christmas

needles

 

The Seven Days of Christmas

On the first next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
The final gift beneath the tree,
With label lost, its contents still a mystery.

On the next next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
A pair of robins foraging,
To brighten up the garden ere the Spring.

On the third next-day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
Three late cards of season’s best –
There’s still just time to hang them with the rest.

On the fourth next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
A four-log fire and easy chair,
And a draught-free door to shut the world out there.

On the fifth next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
A five-petaled weed who thinks it June,
And flowers far too late, or far too soon.

On the last next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
A half-a-dozen sugared dates,
To see the old year out while the new awaits.

On the new next day, I sent my sweetheart’s way
A day of rest and taking heart,
With a long-drawn breath for a brand new start.

 

 

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