Echoes

The house looks bare,
the tinsel’s gone,
the baubles packed away,

no holly swags
now deck the halls,
no berries bright and gay.

Our feasting’s done,
just echoes now,
no carols left to sing,

but all around
I see the signs;
soon it will be Spring.

Revelry

Take down the holly and the tree,
put lights and tinsel back in store.
It’s time to end our revelry
till Yuletide circles round once more.