Christmas and a Ho, Ho, Ho

Here all in one place for your viewing convenience are all the posts from this year’s Advent Calendar day 24 at the top down to day 1 at the bottom:

24. Windows
23. Endings

22. Weary
21. Indigo
20. Shifty
19. Hurry

18. You
17. Orifice
16. Unworry

15. Always

14. Mephistopheles
13. Euphoria
12. Rivers
11. Regard
10. Young

9. Climbing
8. Healing
7. Reminiscence
6. Innocence
5. Storms
4. Thanks
3. Mercy
2. Annie
1. Sorry

Well, would you look at that the first letters of all the posts spell out We Wish You A Merry Christmas. Who would have thought it (a Christmas miracle, I’ve spelt it right)!

Thanks to all my readers for your support in 2015, hope Santa brought you your heart’s desire and best wishes to you all for the next twelve months.


photo credit: Never Washed via photopin (license)

photo credit: Never Washed via photopin (license)

Hinges, jerky and unbending,
Metal twisted in the frame.
With a miasma of coal-black dust
That shuts out the light
And seals the window closed,
As secure as the deadbolt on a safe,
From all outside
That wish to catch a glimpse
Of what I hide within.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


It’s in the eyes
And that painted-on forced smile.
You couldn’t be more of a snake
If you slid about on your belly.
All of it is lies,
You wouldn’t recognise the truth.
You are such a fake.
What are you trying to take me for?

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


Rush, rush,
Hurry, hurry,
Rush, rush,
Worry, worry…

They might not think
I love them.
The shops may be shut
For a week!
I’ve got to be ready
For Christmas,
So I’ve got to go
Buy, buy, buy,
To be the perfect
Consumer worker bee,
Buzz, buzz, buzz…

Wrap, wrap, wrap,
Rush, hurry,
Wrap, wrap, wrap,
Rush, worry;
Buy more
Crap, crap, crap… (Repeat to fade)

This is only the real meaning of Christmas if you let it be. Try to remember millions of presents won’t bring happiness and the kids will only end up playing with the box anyway.

Depending on how you are feeling Bah Humbug or Merry Christmas.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


The dancer twirls around the floor
Dancing for her own reflection,
Mirrored there upon the walls.
Why would she wish to dance with another,
When no one else understands the music’s call.
“Oh you pretty thing,” the music acclaims her.
The one and only, the belle, the dance desires her.
“Oh you pretty thing,” with every swish and glide,
The ecstasy, as the music rides her.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


photo credit: . via photopin (license)

photo credit: . via photopin (license)

Anyway, I’ve got fears of my own
Hidden away in a high tower.
So, I can’t take your worries away
It isn’t as simple as kissing them better.

But if you want my advice, and you’re free to ignore it,
Write it all down in a letter and mail it to Santa
Or burn the letter and put the ashes
In an urn up high on your shelf.

Perhaps this would help. Go stand in the rain
Let the gale howl through you,
Let the weak light of the winter sun decide your truth.

Make Love;
Do whatever you can to hold back the night.
You have to unravel the strings of your happy
From all your other fighting kites
Before taking the first step of the precipice.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


It is not mine, it is not yours.
It is not in the gentle breeze
Or in the howling of that lone wolf at night.
And though I looked, I did not find it in the tides
Or the gentle lapping of the waves upon the beach.
Nor in crying alone, in the pale moonlight,
Neither was it the kiss or the soft,
Shivering, caress of a lover.
But Always is there, somewhere.
But always just out of reach.

© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.