If UK Christmas Has a Sound

The house wakes up before the sun Cold windows, kettle already on Mum says wait, she needs a brew Before the wrapping’s torn in two Dad’s standing there in Christmas socks Says “hope you like it” like he’s guessing lots Swears he knew what he went and bought But the smile says maybe not Selection boxes on the floor Chocolate coins from every drawer Tin of biscuits, half gone by ten Quality Street makes an early end Paper flying, tape stuck wrong Dad’s got black bags ready all along Ties it up like clockwork pride “Don’t waste that,” he says, twice The telly’s on but no one’s watching Same old films we all keep mocking Someone’s arguing over the rules Of a board game nobody chose Cards come out, tempers rise Monopoly ruins Christmas lives Laughter breaks it, tea again Mum’s back at the kettle then Dinner’s late, but no one minds Yorkshires bigger than the plate this time Dad falls asleep before dessert Snores through jokes that still get heard Lights are low, the day winds down Leftover jokes still going round Nothing perfect, nothing planned Just everyone we love, right where we stand And if Christmas has a sound It’s this house, right now