Thought it was time I posted some more poetry. This is a (rather pessimistic) seasonal offering…
The November Judgement
I sentence you
To four months’ hard labour
Imprisoned by gloom and darkness,
Surrounded by misty, cold grey days.
Joviality will be tolerated
Only during organised association and recreation
That will mark the half-way point of your sentence;
After this, daylight will be strictly rationed
But brightness will be slowly increased,
And you may be allowed a little colour and warmth.
You should know there can be no leniency
Or remission, as, by the powers vested in me,
The sentence must run its full term;
It is The Law.
All are condemned to endure
The same dull monotony;
All must suffer equally.
This, though, is not an indeterminate sentence;
Each slow day will pass and in good time
You will be sprung from the murk,
Released, rehabilitated – hopefully
Of the light and warmth and freedom
That you took so much for granted
While you had it.
Take him down.