5 December 2012
Every year on Christmas Eve, I climb to the top of my hill; I feel at one with Mother Nature, And a single tear I'll spill.
It's tradition now; I don't climb up there alone. There's my little family, close friends, And the two dogs with their bone.
Every year come rain or shine, We all climb up together; Even baby Erin went last year, Wrapped up from the windy weather.
It's when we get to the top, The fun really begins. We eat mince pies, drink mulled wine, And Christmas carols we sing.
Others who have made the climb, Look on at us with envy; For we are embracing the season, And have wine and pies aplenty.
Only once has it snowed, That was two years ago. We took our sledges for added thrill And we all had many a go.
But the testosterone filled men, Took it one step too far; Sledging from the very top to the bottom Screaming on the 'kids don't try this' radar.
Three years ago, while at the top, Is where I received that call, But I carried on as if nothing had happened, Ate my pie and threw the dogs ball.
Thinking of others and not myself, I saved my tears until I got home; Children come first at Christmas, No matter the news on the phone.
So on Christmas Eve, we'll all be there again, Climbing up our hill; I really hope it snows this year, As sledging is such a thrill.
There's nothing quite like a Christmas picnic, Of mince pies and warm mulled wine; On top of the world with family and friends, It really is a special time.
X
Christmas Picnic • Opuss № I