ALL YE MERRY GENTLEMEN

ALL YE MERRY GENTLEMEN

All ye merry gentlemen, out there on the yards,
You traveling group of Christmas minstrels,
You solemn yuletide bards.
I'll give you half my earthly fortune,
Plus fancy and exotic food,
If you'll just turn and go away,
For I'm not in the Christmas mood.

All ye merry gentlemen, with your glad and ancient rhymes,
My life is at a standstill and I've fallen on hard times.
Illness and calamity, and bitterness have befallen me,
I've half a mind to take a dive headfirst into the Christmas tree.
To rid the world of the cynicism that has seeped into my pores,
Stumbling on the threshold and running into doors.

The star of light you sing about's a distant memory,
That echoes in my dreams of old, a conundrum and a mystery,
The tale of Christ the savior who lived and died for mortal man,
So we could be at peace with God and one day live again.
The rustic stable rude and bare where Mary and the Christ child lay,
Where wisemen and where shepherds converged upon the hay.
I believe this awesome truth, yet it leaves me strangely cold,
A page torn from the yellowed scriptures, musty and so old.

But your confounded singing is growing louder,
And my ears they vibrate to the din,
Of glories of some Christmas past,
Spent with dear departed kin.
You are dangerous, merry gentlemen,
And should I let you 'neath my skin,
I may be forced to rise from bed,
Set out some lavish Christmas spread,
Turn my world upon its head, pick up and start again.

All ye merry gentlemen, caroling on the lawn,
Shut your mouths, my life's gone south,
I'm warning you be gone.
Sometimes I have to wonder,
As my life it goes asunder,
If I should pull the world down with me,
In this grandest season,
It would be a cinch to be a Grinch,
Defying rhyme and reason.

Or perhaps ye merry gentlemen for the season I can put aside,
All these sorrows and resentments, all this empty pride.
Come to the door with cocoa and cookies and invite you in my home,
No need to spend the holiday so broken and alone.
So all ye merry gentlemen, you at last have won my heart,
That once appeared beyond repair, so ripped and blown apart.
Come in, come in and gladly spend this blessed time of light,
You've won me over with your songs so mystical and bright.
The Christ child lives inside my heart, your work here now is done,
Go ye merry gentlemen, and lift up everyone.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED