My toes have blisters, my socks have holes,

This thick skirt won’t keep out the cold,

I pass windows framing glowing fires,

Carts roll over cobbles, drawn by shires.

Christmas Eve dances, pokes out her tongue,

She laughs like sleigh bells, yet me she shuns,

So, instead, here I stand staring

My eyes upturned; narrowed and glaring

At a house that peers over the edge,

Framed by no tree or even a hedge,

It’s a barren No-Mans Land,

Alone and cut off where it stands.

I daydream of watching snow fall,

Memories of long past Christmas Balls —

But now awaiting me is no husband,

Nor mother, brother, or cousin.

So here I am having to heave, lift and slug

This heavy package to some rich mug,

But I’m wanting of any company tonight

Even if fatigue I have to fight.