Tis the night before Christmas

And here in this house

Not a soul 'cept me stirs

Or maybe the mouse

Who sometimes flits by in furred subterfuge

So tight with his visits that I call him Scrooge!

The flat below has been empty a while

And the tenant above has gone away with a smile.

I'm in solitary seclusion - but far from alone,

With the email, the landline and mobile phone!

Solitude suits me - seasonal or no,

And I'm always asking "where does the time go?"

In the heart of this great city, life's always near,

And I relish knowing that the past is still clear.

When memories bring images I'd rather forget,

I banish the worst, whilst the best linger yet;

And keeping to this I invariably find

There's no better way to keep Christmas in mind!

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