The old year is speeding on fast to its close. And soon will be buried its troubles and woes

Theodore Royle, the gentleman bard of Palmers Green, seemingly had words for every occasion and Christmas was no exception.

And so, at this most special of times, I give you his poem, Christmas, which I am sure will make the season just that little more special.  No, no need to thank me.

Tales from the annuls of Palmers Green continue in the new year.

Merry Christmas! Take it away Ted:

Christmas has come, and once more the earth 
Wakes to the song of Christ's wondrous birth ; 
Once more with joy renewed old and young meet, 
Under the roof tree, old Christmas to greet. 

The robin salutes us at morn's early dawn, 
The chorister, brightest that ever was born, 
Perched up aloft on the snow cover'd spray. 
He pipes to us all a glad Christmas day. 

Thrice happy time in the world's busy round. 
When peace and goodwill on earth should be found ; 
When men's evil passions for once should succumb, 
For all should be brothers when Christmas has come. 

Merry old Christmas, true gladness imparts, 
The warmth of its greeting thaws all frozen hearts ; 
And souls that are cheerless and cold as the clay, 
Wake up to fresh life on the bright Christmas day. 

The old year is speeding on fast to its close. 
And soon will be buried its troubles and woes ; 
May each year to us as we down its stream glide, 
Bring fresh faith and hope each glad Christmastide. 

Then hang up the mistletoe and light the yule log. 
Draw closer the curtains and shut out the fog, 
Joy, song, and mirth should resound in each home. 
For bright as the holly glad Christmas has come