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A Father’s Silence
(Christmas with the in laws)

This is what my wife’s dad said
When we returned from church.
We were visiting my in laws
And standing on the porch.

For Christmas Day,
I’d like to have
The following
By the tree.
So lend an ear,
And listen hard,
But listen
Comf’tably.

I don’t want noise,
And too much din,
Will make me scratch
And blink.

Cacophony,
Like celebrity,
Can drive a man to drink.

So whisper should you need to shout.
And hum whene’er you sing.
And if you have to chew the fat,
Please chew with no teeth in!

And on Christmas morning,
Before you rend your gifts,
Don’t rip the wrap,
Until you’ve soaked,
Your presents
In sloe gin

What’s that you say?
What is the point,
To sloe gin
By the tree?

It wets the paper,
Wets your brain,
And is coloured festively.

And breakfast should be silent.
Ripe bananas
And blueberries.

However did it get there?
Plastic bowls
With plump, red cherries?

In order that no eggs are cracked,
Or toast is scraped,
Or batter whacked,
I’ll help you out.

No, I insist!
Don’t thank me now.
You’ll get the jist.

I know you’ll like
My kitchen craft,
And my velvet fist.

Designed to keep things quiet,
And maintain the festive bliss!

And as the day progresses,
And people
Come and go.
And as the children
Try to play,
With toys
They’d like to know.
I’ll shoo them out the back door,
Into the fresh, white snow!

That will keep the clang contained
At twenty degrees below!

And when the day is over,
And we’re off to bed,
And as you make your way upstairs,
Remember what I’ve said.

I did not insist
That quiet here
Was for your mother’s sake.

Nor did I ask
To keep it down
For anyone
That lives in town.

I considered it a favour.
A need that there must be,
For a sleeping baby Jesus,
And, of course,
For me!