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Daily Archives: December 10, 2013



Christmas tree12345

See the pretty lights a twinkling

See the children’s faces of delight

Viewing the Christmas decorations

In splendour light up the night


The sound of carols fills the air

Sung by a children’s choir

The smell of chestnuts

Roasting on an open fire


Santa Clause on his slay

Riding through the streets

See the children’s eyes wide open

As he greets them all with sweets


Carols singers at the door

Sing two lines of the first noel

The goose is getting fat

Then they ring the bell


It is all part of the Christmas Spirit

A time of Christmas, cheer

A time when all get together

A time we hold so dear


A Merry Christmas to everyone

Where ever you may be

Remember to make a wish

Standing around the Christmas tree


Malcolm G Bradshaw


Christmas Tree - Obelisk -Indianapolis


35 metres tall 

The Christmas Box – Promote Yourself

My name’s Christopher Flame I’m 22. I’ve been writing for a number of years.
I come from east London – UK.
I’m currently in Swindon waiting to start a course to go onto study English literature at university.
I love to write about a variety of things really. the one below is quite a personal one of mine, its also featured on my blog. (I believe you gave it a like)

but I love to observe, people watch, as do a lot of writers and artists. sometimes to the point you forget your own life and existence a little bit.
but anyway, I hope you like it.


christmas treexxxxxx

We are not a family.
But the question intrudes
On a year of apathy.
“When is the tree going up?”
“Soon.” She would say.

We left it as long as possible.

Then my dad would enter the loft.
And reveal the Christmas box
Harboring the nostalgia,
The smell of old tinsel,
And last years dusty smiles

Christmas inside of a cracker,
Joined by it for a brief second,
A pull,
A snap,
and it’s gone.

We are not a family.

But hell,
I can be drawn in.
By the hypnosis of the fibre optic tree
Or the coke advert on t.v.
And believe its real for a moment.
As if we are held together by tired pieces of sticky tape,
Straight from last years multipack.

Then, at the end.
We make a relic of it all,
And pack the love and laughter
Back into the box.
Back into the loft.
For another year.
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