Back On Track

Driving home, familiar lane, familiar weather, too.
Driving home for Christmas, driving back to you.

But the house looks rather vacant, no curtains up at all.
Preparing decorations, lights at windows, up the hall?

But the house is all abandoned, no furniture inside
Just a card propped up against a glass, my name on it inscribed

It read:

'I'm sorry, darling, you were working far too much,
I'm getting married to the landlord, in that distant little church.' 

So, I got back in my faithful jeep, reversed and shot away.
Back to my sprightly mistress, at last it seems she'll get her way!
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