Seasons Greetings from Nottnum’s Market Square
Streets complete with anticipation
Council House lavished in proud decoration
and there’s more treats to eat
than bellies can compete with.
Money smells like ‘Mmm, food.’
Pockets are packed with fumbling fingers,
searching in great numbers
for the right gift, smile, memory.
our city-centre wonder-scape
across each face.
Fake flake snow,
artificial Christmas tree aglow,
the lions are fed morsels
of sparkly bright tinsel.
This season’s rainfall
like fountains reflecting each light and bauble
a bottle of festive cheer
lays drunk and smashed on the floor.
A letter to Santa sleeps in a shop door.
Merrily on high, a pigeon tries to have a go
at decorating me with his own interpretation of snow.
Wooden garden sheds, glorified,
offer me their goods and supplies.
Hark, the ATMs a sing:
ker-ching, ker-ching, ker-ching.
Everyone’s sparkly, festively buzzing.
Ye Old Market Square doesn’t care if you’re bluffing.