Scrooge on Christmas Morning
a Christmas Poem by M Ryan Taylor

To be Scrooge on Christmas morning;
a heart perpetually broken with joy,
bubbling up, brewing a merry wassail,
flowing freely, a milk of human kindness
spilling out to all the world.

To be Scrooge on Christmas morning;
wrists braced in garlands of ivy green,
hands reborn to cultivate new life,
to garden up, furrow down and spread
the holly berry red.

To be Scrooge on Christmas morning;
feet itching to cross the paths of men,
eyes wide to joy and sorrow, ears open to need,
voice thirsting to greet and sing
a carol constant, consorting bliss.

Copyright © 2010 M Ryan Taylor
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