This comes with all good wishes to the readers of Panderjam. Simone Sekers .

OUR ANGEL

I'm much too old for this.

Each year, about the

Time when everything

Else sleeps, here they come.

Tie me to the topmost branch.

Flashing lights give me

Migraine, and tinsel tickles.

I get dizzy spells now, and

The smell of pine brings

On my asthma. No one hears.

This year things aren't the same.

'The Angel's past her best',

She said, but 'Mum', they said

'You can't just chuck her out.

She's always been Our Angel'.

Not much I could say, tied

Up here. I felt unwanted,

After years of service. I

Couldn't stop a tear or two,

Shining like stars among the lights.

'See, she's lovely, leave her be'.

 Mum bought a new angel,

All in gold, with real hair,

A harp. But, 'No', they said,

'She's brought us luck for years.

Angels don't grow on trees.

Our Angel's best.' I felt a

Glow of love and hope, a surge

Of power. A miracle!

The dog's chewed up the other.

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