The tradition of the kiss under the mistletoe used to be a thing when I was young. Nowadays, it's an invitation to a sexual assault lawsuit. I love the imagery of a simpler time in this poem by Walter de La Mare ...
Mistletoe
by Walter de La Mare
Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen—and kissed me there.
In the current environment, perhaps a hearty handshake under the mistletoe is better. Unless, of course, you're shaking the hand of Nancy Mace.
Have a good day, enjoy the rest of your weekend, and get ready for the final sprint into Christmas. More thoughts coming.
Bilbo
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