From Deepest, Darkest Kittybrewster: a Poem

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From deepest, darkest Kittybrewster*- Comes winter dismal and gray;  the darkness is upon us and we hope to get away.

Herein lies granite, strong and sturdy- forever it will stand; but it ain’t particularly purdy- the city a bit bland.

The lights come on at 3pm- to help us find our tea; it comforts us and helps us cope -before we hit the whisk-ee.

‘Central heating’ this provides- to those who do partake; the rest of us do  huddle- beneath a duvet as thick as cake.

These latitudes are rumored- to have the famous lights; northern, glowing, dancing-the pictures are so bright.

But waiting on a seaside cliff- in wee hours of night; is more than this watcher can muster -for the chance at a dim sight.

Black Friday full of wind and dreich- was not a shopping lure;  so we took our car to the auto shop- to seek for it a cure.

It passed the MOT inspection test, but not without some pounds; to fix the squeaking, sagging struts- that carry us around.

‘Advent in Aberdeen’ -would be a better title;  for this aimless, wandering prose-  that’s in desperate need of a bridle.

Twinkling lights and baubles glow-  – Hints of life beneath the snow; what’s this rumor of peace we hear? The gentle breath of God be near.

*Kittybrewster is the part of Aberdeen where we live.

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