Grey Christmas

by Edward Keyes

A mild grey day on the run up to Christmas.
Some threat of rain, no promise of sun or snow.
No wind, only the gulls active in the air.

Some come to the holy season
not with the child's rapture, the believer's inward glow,
or with frank, pagan jollity,
but with a nod of recognition, a temperate response,
excluding extras of Church and yule.
  Crib, carol and cracker.

Lord of all Christmases
bless the low-spirited
who know neither light nor darkness -
gaiety nor gloom -
who are but a little lifted
above the customary calm, the regular routine,
and would have it so.
  Bless the low-keyed Christmas.