On this Christmas Day,
I am drunk with hope
and distant kisses.
You cannot take
this from me.
And whilst a blue night
drops on the world.
I see from my window,
a magpie with wings.
Speaking words of joy.
And then, as if by magic.
One-by-one-the
statues disappear.
A Wandering Poet 
I like the expression “drunk with hope,” and it has a good rhythm with the kisses. Magpies can be quite chatty and seem to carry messages. I’ve never had a Mag pie though, only four and twenty black birds. In the crow family world, I think the magpies have great stature.
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