The view from my chair - Dickensian edition

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Submitted by Alan Gillies

G.E.M. Media

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through my shop,

Toys and guitars sat in the light of a Coke machine full of pop,

Whilst I sat at my keyboards, both computer and piano,

Knowing I wouldn’t sleep until sometime tomorrow;

That’s hardly unlike me, ask those who know well,

As I’m always this way as the season nears Noel.

It’s way past late at night, and I’ve places to be,

Inspired in ways that may only make sense to me.

But yet here I compose, songs and poems and verse,

And the occasional column, with the occasional typo to curse.

I s’pose I could write ‘bout the good old hockey game,

The home team lost, again, and that’s always a shame.

It was one disappointment, that to some may not even matter,

An obstacle faced despite any chance it might shatter.

That both is and isn’t what has me writing tonight,

As I’ve always believed in fighting the unwinnable fight.

Perhaps ‘tis the Season, a time of miracles and love,

A time when a light shines from yonder above.

Perhaps those are just romantic Capra-esque beliefs of a fool,

Mixed with the inferred magic of the timing of Yule.

But maybe, just maybe, there’s some magic left behind,

In this world that so often seems uncaring and unkind.

For I heard ‘midst the laughter of children just last night,

Some words that brought my sore tired heart much delight.

“Toys, for every kid!”, I heard a young lass decree;

“That’s right!” I heard myself say, with George Bailey-styled glee.

For an entire town had brought gifts for children they might not even know,

Not for glory, or a story, not for deductions, nor for show.

This wasn’t Bedford Falls, or Whoville, or Victorian London,

But a giving of happiness to many a local toyless young ’un.

I’ve heard that our hearts grow three sizes at this time of year,

When we share with those in need, as well as those we hold dear.

For each child needs a toy, each family needs their roast beast,

As sure as that star shines off in the East.

And like kings of old and Don Quixote, that star,

I must follow myself, no matter how hopeless or far.

I’ve only now realized just how truly bless’d,

I am for the friends and family who’ve shared in my quest.

For we each must believe in our own Christmas wish,

And mine for each of us this year is quite simply this:

That those whom you love truly, share the joy that you feel.

Merry Christmas to all, may all your dreams become real.