New Year Celebrations - Ros Willard

I wish I could jump on a magic broom
and not have to stay in my boring bed-room.

I’d fly round the world to greet the new year
from Papua New Guinea to Tanzania.

In a house adorned with bamboo in Japan
I’d laugh, hear the bells and wave a red fan.

In Spain I’d eat grapes at each midnight chime
to ensure that next year is a happy time.

In Denmark I’d join boys and girls throwing plates
on the snow-covered doorsteps of their best mates.

In Sweden I’d have a big glass of glogg
to wash down a slice of chocolate Yule log.

Gentle St Basil, with his gift of peace,
would visit me when I arrived in Greece.

I’d zoom in and out of the London Eye
watching the fireworks light up the sky.

In Rio, O! what a sight it would be –
a boat laden with flowers pushed out to sea.

I’d help build a scarecrow in Ecuador,
watch him being torched and hear the flames roar.

Lastly, I’d see the ball drop in Times Square
and pick bits of ticker tape out of my hair

before flying back to my cosy bed
and waking next morning to the year ahead.

Ros Willard