There is nothing left

There is nothing left

To hang a hat on

Christmas comes and goes

With little more

Than a whimper

For the time

The world was young

The smell of cinnamon

And chocolate

An orange in a stocking

A smile for everyone

What happened to

The fret saw

So well used

On Christmas morn

Clean through the table leg

Before breakfast

In fact well nigh

Two hours before dawn

There is nothing left

Of magic

The box of fifteen tricks

With a crystal ball

A top hat

Concealed side pocket

And disappearing

Chinese sticks

What happened to

Anticipation

Decorations

Tree and lights

A log upon

An open fire

Carol singers

Long dark cosy nights

There is nothing left

Of Christmas

The last of it has gone

Bulldozed

Into landfill

As a thankless

World moves on.