Christmas Dinner

The time of year when families gather,

Sat round for Sunday Lunch,

When all we do is laugh and blather,

With wine and cranberry punch.

A magic day with smiles all round,

The fire blazing hot,

The lounge is full of Christmas sounds

And crackers now to pop.

And now it’s time for mothers gift,

A secret kept ‘til last,

The room now takes a quiet shift,

A present from the past.

A little book with quotes inside,

And spoon to shorty follow,

With recipes of love astride,

There’s quite a lot to swallow.

For my dear siblings have no clue,

That mother bear is ill,

Only to me can she be true,

And hush the pain with pills.

So these small gifts, though seem quite small,

Are Goodbyes all wrapped up,

She gives to us while standing tall,

So strong, she bottles up.

She acts so tough in numbered days,

Though strength is wearing thin,

Appetite meagre and eyes are glazed,

As she holds her tears back with gin.