Tipping into madness, the buying fest hots up.
Headlong and with blinkers on.
The rush into festive fun, silly hats and coloured lights,
beer fuelled parties and Christmas fights.
Shiny baubles, cards and tinsel.
Pressure cooking builds, almost sinful.
Lead me by the hand to a peaceful place.
Of babbling brook with green bower of lace.
With whispy clouds and deep blue sky.
Or soar into the air on the wing to fly.
Oh let me feel the love that flows.
Connecting with the earth and all that it knows.