I get high on dry martinis,
Christmas parties, cocktail weenies,
The Yuletide spirit, choirs singing
Carillons and handbells ringing.
Winter surf and salty talk,
An azure sky and one lone hawk.
Holiday greetings, friendly folk,
Beach campfires, driftwood smoke.
Carols sung by Placido,
Handel’s Messiah — powder snow,
Fireplaces faintly embered,
Faraway places still remembered.
Candlelit crystal, vintage wine,
But most of all, your hand in mine!
Bill Dowey