
merry christmas time
when hearts can reopen gifts
of old memories

Mummers Allowed In
By: Ash
when I was little, I saw a man in a dress
mask on his face, brassiere on his chest
scary to a youngster at Christmas time
only to a Newfoundlander best kind
twas a mummer you see
staggering door to door for a beer or a snart of whiskey
some of them danced, most of them sang
with a lot of them bumming for spirits and tang
I was frightened at first, hiding behind Nan’s holiday skirt
she told me not to be foolish, for they wouldn’t hurt
all they really want is to join in some cheer
cause they can only do so during this time of year
when I got older, I too put on a dress
covered my face, and did a jig to impress
the tradition of mummering is DNA to my folk
we share this island and we share this joke
if you see someone with mitts on their feet
an ugly stick in hand, walking the snow-fallen street
with humps on their back
like that Simani song, an old Newfie track
played on each occasion, there’s a callback to a time now old
when being out all night could catch you the devil’s own cold
but that was OK if you had a pint of rum
it got you home by the heat in your tum
if you come to Newfoundland at Christmas
be sure it’s not a mummer’s night…you do miss

Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I’m out on a December-chilled morning, walking along Ashing through the snow. Most months have a distinct feel. December is definitely one of them. So much so that it broke me free from the strangling grip of writer’s block. Now that I am creating again, I need to talk about it, too. And, as always, I throw in a poem, no wait, two poems for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Email: earth2ash@gmail.com
