BY TOM RYAN
We shall not in drawing up to the red-coaled fire
In a profusion of spirits in the hollied room
Your presence dishonour with forgetfullness,
But rather shall we in music and wine
And in the memory of another place and happy time
Toast you, our absent ones.
Nor as the carols reach to the Christmas stars
In praise of the glorious grandeur of the world,
Nor as childrens’ voices herald a new awakening
Shall we forget the warmth Of a time of togetherness,
But in a quiet prayer, pure as snow crystals
Give thanks for what you were to our hearts
For what you’ll ever be Unto the last Yuletide.
So, in a good spirit,
Glad for the plenty and the peace,
Joyous for our family and our friends.
With all the people of the earth
And in our merriment and mirth
We do remember you, our dear and absent ones.
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