Having a warm soup

We all meet up in the middle sometimes 
When the seasons are right 
We all brush off the mud on our boots 
On the doormat, that spells out welcome home 


Walking out of the cold into the warmth 
An empty chair seats idle  
With our names imprinted on, reserved  for
Like a movie director's chair with comfort 


Here take your coat off 
Here have a seat, here a warm soup 
Or coco, have some bread to fill you up 
And do tell us stories of adventure 


And trepidations, dragons you have slayed 
 At some point, I feared I wouldn't make it 
Nightmare rings awakening, like alarm clocks 
To my sleep awake and I sweat the demons out  


Words do, belittle experience to talk of 
But hold on, it is a lie what was spelt out  
In the beginning so bold, like prophecy 
And infested with assurance that mild  


We do not all meet in the middle sometimes 
When the seasons are right 
Some never made it back and empty seats 
Remain around tables in advent 


An old friend passed away 
He will not be here this year 
An old friend changed alliance, false start   
He now stands at the front line with the enemy 


An old friend lost his map 
He sits in the cold in street corners begging 
Without direction on course to take  
The magnet in his compass is without life 


So I hold back my speech of travesty 
And look into the hamper bag I carry  
To bring out presents of merry, I carry more of those 
Don't be fooled by t' size of t' bag, it is like the Tardis   


The most valuable of all, is to have made it here 
In the middle sometimes, when seasons are right 
To brush off the dirty on our boots, on welcome mats 
Hang our coats and have a warm soup 


NB: If you saw the baby in the picture above 
you have good eyes and Merry Christmas