Another Tie

"Gee, thanks! Another reindeer tie!"
Dad says with a sigh,
as he tries not to cry,
Christmas joy gone bye-bye.

Disappointment is the gift that’s unwrapped
when Christmas shopping’s not mapped
and you find yourself strapped,
your face soon to be slapped.

Next year make a list
of gifts not to be missed,
to ensure Christmas bliss
and a face that is kissed.

Goodwill To Men - Give Us Your Money by Pam Ayres

It was Christmas Eve on a Friday
The shops was full of cheer,
With tinsel in the windows,
And presents twice as dear.
A thousand Father Christmases,
Sat in their little huts,
And folk was buying crackers
And folk was buying nuts.
All up and down the country,
Before the light was snuffed,
Turkeys they get murdered,
And cockerels they got stuffed,
Christmas cakes got marzipanned,
And puddin's they got steamed
Mothers they got desperate
And tired kiddies screamed.
Hundredweight's of Christmas cards,
Went flying through the post,
With first class postage stamps on those,
You had to flatter most.
Within a million kitchens,
Mince pies was being made,
On everyone's radio,
"White Christmas", it was played.
Out in the frozen countryside
Men crept round on their own,
Hacking off the holly,
What other folks had grown,
Mistletoe on willow trees,
Was by a man wrenched clear,
So he could kiss his neighbour's wife,
He'd fancied all the year.
And out upon the hillside,
Where the Christmas trees had stood,
All was completely barren,
But for little stumps of wood,
The little trees that flourished
All the year were there no more,
But in a million houses,
Dropped their needles on the floor.
And out of every cranny, cupboard,
Hiding place and nook,
Little bikes and kiddies' trikes,
Were secretively took,
Yards of wrapping paper,
Was rustled round about,
And bikes were wheeled to bedrooms,
With the pedals sticking out.
Rolled up in Christmas paper
The Action Men were tensed,
All ready for the morning,
When their fighting life commenced,
With tommy guns and daggers,
All clustered round about,
"Peace on Earth - Goodwill to Men"
The figures seemed to shout.
The church was standing empty,
The pub was standing packed,
There came a yell, "Noel, Noel!"
And glasses they got cracked.
From up above the fireplace,
Christmas cards began to fall,
And trodden on the floor, said:
"Merry Christmas, to you all."

A Politically Correct Christmas Poem

T'was the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,
Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.

Santa Claus is tapping Your phone!

You'd better watch out,
You'd better not cry,
You'd better not pout;
I'm telling you why.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone.

He's bugging your room,
He's reading your mail,
He's keeping a file
And running a tail.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone.

He hears you in the bedroom,
Surveys you out of doors,
And if that doesn't get the goods,
Then he'll use provocateurs.

So, you mustn't assume
That you are secure.
On Christmas Eve
He'll kick in your door.
Santa Claus is tapping
Your phone!

Ho! Ho! Ho! And Jingle Bells

Ho! Ho! Ho! and Jingle Bells,
What's all the fuss about?
The rich food and the drinkies,
Only inflame my bloody gout.

My credit card has almost melted,
From persistent overuse,
And my liver is near failure,
From pre-Christmas Party abuse.

My blood sugars are elevated,
And my blood pressure is sky high,
I was feeling really well before lunch,
But now I think I'm going to die!

Nobody liked the presents that I bought,
And the family is at war,
So much for Christmas Spirit,
And that's all I asked Santa for,

Now no-one is talking to me,
While I lie here exiled in the Sun,
With my belt unbuckled and my gut exposed,
Thanking God that this Christmas is done.

Christmas!

I've been getting ready for Christmas
I'm revving up for the great day
my credit card's cracked and my freezer is packed
'cause I started my shopping in May

The mistletoe's hanging in bunches
'cause the odd Christmas kiss isn't wrong
and the Vicar I've found - quite likes calling round
and exploring my crowns with his tongue

The bin men have gotten quite friendly
they're after a present I fear
they won't feel so chuffed when I tell them - get stuffed
'cause they don't speak the rest of the year

The family is coming for dinner
last year it was quite a good laugh
we ate fairly late - dished the veg on the plate
found the turkey was still in the bath

the Kids are all pink with excitement
'cause Santa will come so they say
their lists are extensive - extremely expensive
and they'll break it all by Boxing day

But it's worth all that fuss Christmas morning
when their little eyes are all aglow
when we're all feeling merry full of goodwill and sherry
and suffering from wind Ho Ho Ho

But please don't forget why we do it
why each year we must go to this fuss
for that guy up above who brought peace and brought love
and who probably owns Toys R Us

A Letter to Rudolph

Dear Husband, It is time that I must have my say,
I've taken your shit day after day.
I've kept the home peaceful year after year
Now there is going to be changes, so listen my dear.

So you're famous, everyone knows your name,
And you're a specialist by gum, in the transport game,
You think you're so grand with your important job.
But I'm telling you my dear you're a worn out old yob

363 days a year,
You sit on your arse drinking scotch, rum and beer,
You claim it is to keep up the shine on your nose
So Santa can see where he blooming well goes.

One night a year is all that you work,
You and your eight reisty mates - they're all jerks.
Dasher and Dancer - Speed freaks I say,
The sleigh wouldn't go that quick any other way.
Prancer and Vixen - Just cheap little tarts,
But they look like angels once Comet starts.

Cupids on some freaked out damned power trip,
And Donner...well, she should just get a damned grip
And Blitzen, I almost don't need to say,
Is here getting blitzed with you every day.

All of these years at the front of the sled,
Has gone, I'm afraid, to your crusty old head.
You're a layabout and a drunkard, with a big shiny nose,
And a weakness for elves in black pantyhose.

I'm telling you husband that one Christmas song,
Has made you think that you can do no wrong.
So this year while your out with old Santa's sled,
I am eloping, my dear, with your friend - Mr. Ed