The Christmas coat

It's sight invokes the memory
of yuletide from my youth 
a garment for the ages
conceited hidden truth

Shuffling to the pews
of another midnight mass
visitors for the holidays
with swagger they did pass

Sweaters, scarves all affluent sights
beautifying big and small
yet only one to capture envy
the coat that conquers all

"There's young Michael back from Dublin"
"I hear he's doing well"
"a doctor now I tell you"
elders pry and gossips tell

"There's Dave back from America"
"I hear he's quiet the catch"
obsequious but clueless
surveyors of their patch

But that coat, it did draw me
fine wool guised as silk
fabric which cried "success"
from the many of its ilk

The coat, it made me ponder
on ambition and the dream 
instead I chased the pension
stability was the theme

Bequeathed now this Christmas 
I have a sleek new thread
without that job in Dublin
I found myself instead