Christmas Every Week: Cold-Shoulder Christmas
Arnold Kellett's poem reminds us that Christmas can be the loneliest day of the year.
Little old lady, all alone,
Sad Yule-tide monologue:
She'll not see a soul all Christmas,
Except for her little dog.
Dogs don't have souls, I hear you say;
They do when you live alone,
When the Christmas box that pleases most
Is a tail-wagging, juicy bone.
Nobody cares enough to call,
And all that will make her rejoice
Is the look on the face of a mongrel dog,
At the sound of his mistress's voice.
Was Jesus not born to teach us love,
And make us good neighbours and friends?
Then shame on a cold-shoulder Christmas,
When even a dog comprehends!
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To order a copy of Arnold's book please click on http://www.amazon.co.uk/Kellets-Christmas-Arnold-Kellett/dp/1858521157/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1231273574&sr=1-4
