Tis the season
Poem: Tis the season
I don’t sing of its twelve days
Or what a true love would be saying to me
To decorate a tree?
i’d rather have a satsuma or drink a cup of tea
What is all the fuss about?
I much prefer mushy peas than a sorry brussel sprout
The getting together for just one day of the year. Some say hooray, others shed a woeful tear
But it’s a tradition
Going from here to there can be a mission
I don’t get all flustered and frantic
No desire to see a phoney St. Nick and go transatlantic
I don’t tuck myself in with a pig in blanket
Ask me about the mulled wine, well I’ve…already drank it
Review: Tis the season
I’m attempting to do some guess work with the poet’s vintage here. I’m not sensing any sign of excitement or anticipation with Christmas approaching. Should I feel sad at that? The poet doesn’t sing along to one of the well-known songs of the season. Do most sing along? Some do I suppose? Do I ? Well, that’s an easy one to answer… NO I do not! I do not appreciate my mood and mode attempting to be curated by outside forces! Boo hiss to that!
And no, I’m not about to unleash my inner Grinch!
The majority of those ‘well known’ tunes are imposed on the public via internet, television and radio transmissions latched to a brand of some kind, competing with other brands for attention. Yucky. I personally cannot get excited about a ‘commerical’ Christmas. I switch right off and away from it.
Ooh a bit blunt of me perhaps? No, just honest. There is a lot of ‘traditional’ stuff out there. There is a lot of tat and toot around. It’s an assault on the senses.
In my view, Christmas is a celebration for children, families, friends and the young at heart. The getting together of folk who enjoy each other’s company. ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’ (as another one of those festive songs goes) When cold, warm things up, it’s winter after all. I am a firm believer in the power of a contrast. When hot, cool down. When wet, dry yourself off. When dark, turn on the light. Get the gist? (there are loads more suggestions for contrasting remedies, many stories for another times)
A true love? Does the poet not believe in that? But is the poet seeking and searching for it? Have they been there and done it? Given it a go, like a ride at a fairground? “Would be saying to me” in the poem, suggests that the poet is using their imagination and is more in love with the idea of being in love rather than what it means to commit one’s life to a person… Sounds a bit scary. A bit risky? Or, It could be that they’ve done that sort of thing already, they’ve dabbled and won’t be singing about it. It was not the ‘true love’ that the poet had been looking for perhaps? Oh, how I’m feeling a tinge of sadness now… but only a tinge, I’m not going overboard with anything emotional. I’ll leave that sort of thing to the poet. That’s the sort of thing they’re good at, the thinking and the ‘feels’, the sensitive peeps that they are,
Decorating a tree can be nice, fun, an artistic gesture, or… indeed a faff!
I think, along witrh the ‘true love’ situation, the poet seems to have been there and done that when it comes to ‘the tree indoors’. I can tell however that they are indeed having a bit of a ‘Christmas moment’ where a satsuma is being thought of along with a good cuppa. What could be better eh?
But it isn’t specifically ‘Christmassy’ is it, a cup of tea?
Satsumas, Clementines and Tangerines are available all year round. No excuses for not getting a Vitamin C fix, a healthy winter boost.
In contrast, as I I like that word and that’s how I’m seeing it, the poet appears to be very nonchalant about things and Is very aware of the traditional and cultural going’s on.
That sort of thing creates a sense of unity when all are behaving the same, right? But hang on, some folk have a tendency of wanting to compete don’t they? Turning ‘Christmas’ into a competition. Who can outdo the other? Yucky to that.
I laugh out loud as I am united with those who say ‘no’ to a Brussel sprout and how the poet prefers mushy peas instead,
I love the bit about the ‘phoney St. Nick’ with the rhyming of words ‘frantic’ and ‘transatlantic’ I can’t help but smile. If you don’t know already… and I hate to break it to (those of you who believe)… but ‘santa claus’ with all his fluffy white beard and redness IS NOT REAL! “Father Christmas|’ well, that’s a different story, another one for another time.
The ‘getting together’ for just the one day?
Why do it on the same day as everybody else? I would suggest do it more than once throughout the year. There’s no need to spend loads of money. Time spent connecting with others is the main thing,
I don’t think the poet is a generation z’er or a millennial. It seems like they know already of the Christmas ‘traditions’ that came before everything became digital. it appears to me that they are not fussed about getting fully into it, in the ‘over doing it 21st century way’.
Christmas references with the rhyming of the ‘pig in a blanket’ and ‘drank it’ relating to the mulled wine, also makes me smile.
I’ll gladly send a Christmas card to the poet. “Seasons Greetings” and all that, I’d say to you
I’m smiling warmly after reading your festive poem. You’ve given me the festive feels how I like it. Like you say “Tis the season” and I thank you.