versum adest

High-street churches

When days grow short, and chill has filled the air –
When red-cloaked man is readying his sleigh,
I watch the people running here and there
To countless temples, offerings to pay.
First, here’s the man who leaves his girl and boy
Each day to go to work, to get ahead:
He’ll fob them off with some expensive toy;
They’d rather he were home with them instead.
Next up, a mum, her family close by:
A new computer each; no need for talk.
Some singers sweetly sing of stars and sky;
Grab purses of th’ unwary: run, don’t walk
En route to the next altar: chip and pin!
– our national religion calls us in.