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December 2020 December 2020
The weaver of life I would like to wish you all a Happy Christmas and peaceful new year.
The colourful plumes of a bird of

Who is the weaver of life’s changing paradise If you have an issue that you need help with, please email me on
michael.tomlinson.mp@parliament.uk or contact my office on
pattern The majestic height of the stately tree 01202 624216. You can also follow what I’ve been doing on
Who is the artist drawing life’s master The everchanging clouds in evening Twitter @Michael4mdnp or Facebook www.facebook.com/
plan skies? michael4MDNP

Who puts the diamonds in the dewy
webs of morning Who could imagine a dolphin at play
The golden sunrise from a master’s The eagle soaring way up in the sky
hand? The stars all shining like jewels in the LOCAL MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT
night

Who puts the questions in the mind of a The fragile beauty of a butterfly?
Michael Tomlinson MP 
thinker Michael.tomlinson.mp@parliament.uk
Who puts the words in the mouths of Who is the weaver of life’s changing holds regular surgeries
great men pattern in the constituency. For  01202 624216
Symphonic music – oh when it is written Whose hand can turn the mighty tide details of forthcoming  www.michaeltomlinson.org.uk
Whose hand is guiding the writer’s Who is the artist to draw us the sunshine surgeries or to make an
pen? And paint us a smile when every man appointment, please @Michael4MDNP

has cried? contact his office.
Who could imagine the grace of Eileen Richardson
gazelles

The Day the Calendar Comes
Alive Look to see if Santa’s been,
And nothing matters more.

Not waiting for the dawn to crack, Forget the clock, forget the hour,
When heads have hardly hit the sack, The church bell ringing in the tower,
The kids are first, all with a burst, Tells the world the time
They tumble down the stairs. Has only just gone half past four.
Listen to the peals of laughter,
Who needs sleep? That’s not the way,
Ringing out from floor to rafter,
To make the most of Christmas day.
Looking for the presents,
Forget the flagging spirit,
Which they know are surely theirs.
For just one day in the year.
Chorus The fickle feast of festive fun,
Holly bough and mistletoe, Will very soon be gone and done;
The Christmas tree, the fall of snow, To see a new day dawning,
The magic and the mystery survive, In the season of good cheer.
The day the calendar comes alive.
Paul J Openshaw
Once the day is set in motion,
Stay in bed’s, a wasted notion.

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