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Wednesday 26th November 2014.

The last few days of November are within my grasp..time to begin to look into the Christmas Box...either to close as quick as i opened it in case old goblins spit spat old tales and half forgotten memory jerkers from christmas pasts..or wallow in the glow in the hope the good goblins can cause enough havoc that the old goblins lanquish with tongues on pant...to scamper away into the darkness...to count all those festive seasons which dragged down the drain pipe in hot words and forlorn love on thier fingers and toes...caught on a barbed wire fence to dry from the tears once spilled.
I think that this year i am approaching the half way mark in good and bad festive seasons...a sort of even stevens dance around the holly tree and can now see the festive season not as a battle for sanity, but a time to wallow in old ghosts, John Wayne movies...Nat King Cole singing about christmas trees and David Bowie singing Little Drummer Boy..with the king of all crooners...Bing Crosby...Already Christmas cards are beginning to trickle through the postal system usually the first ones arrive from Australia with date stamps from beyond September...today i have passed the first few sparkling trees all glitter and no panties in the front windows of this urban sprawl deep in the heart of the Manchester Basin..they made me smile..sigh and slip into gear on thoughts of where have all the years vanished too...So Goeth...

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bichoose
bichoose

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