Twas a pandemic Christmas and all through the house
We had sanitised everything, even the mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
They had been through the hot wash and dried in fresh air
The children were finally tucked in their beds
While visions of play stations danced in their heads,
The wife in her Gin Jams while sneaking some chocs
Settled down on the sofa in front of the box
When out on the lawn there arose such a racket,
A tall Covid marshall in bright high-viz jacket
And some hapless fly tippers who fled from his rage,
He bowed when I clapped him as though on a stage
The moon on the breast of the new fallen slush
Showed the grass needed cutting but now there's no rush,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear
Than a socially distancing herd of reindeer.
Boris, the herdsman not lively nor quick
May once in his lifetime have looked like St Nick
But he bumbled and flustered - so much of the same,
Attempting control and to call them by name
'Now, Hancock, now Van Tam, now oh um er Whitty
Where's Dom? Oh, he's gone. Why is Carrie still shitty?'
To the garden next door, to the gap in the wall,
The reindeer just dashed away, dashed away all.
The leaves that I should have swept up weeks ago
Make a treacherous obstacle as we all know,
When a noise on the roof woke the kids with a bump,
They all cried, 'Hey Dad!' We can see Donald Trump!
And then in a twinkling I heard a voice shout,
'The election was rigged and I'm not moving out.'
As I scratched my poor head and was turning around
Down the chimney the Donald appeared with a bound.
He was dressed in a suit from his head to his foot
And his fake tan was tarnished with ashes and soot
A bundle of golf clubs was flung on his back
And he crouched 'neath a caddy instead of a sack
His eyes were still scornful, his attitude sneery,
His hairpiece had slipped. He looked beaten and weary,
His strange little mouth was drawn up in an 'Oh'
As he's not in our bubble I told him to Go!
I put on my mask and bade him do the same.
And told him that Covid's no longer a game.
His arrogant gaze and a neck made of brass
Made me hope the wet leaves would leave him on his arse.
He was chubby like Boris and full of himself
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
A shrug of his shoulders and shake of his head
Made me want to shout, 'Biden!' - a name he must dread
He spoke not a word and went straight to his work
Spreading germs to the stockings, he's still a prize jerk!
Then, 'So long, folks, So long, folks'. He left in a trice,
Have you noticed how Donald says everything twice?
He called for his sleigh but the reindeers had flown.
He yelled, Track and Trace (twice) but the signal was down
And I heard him exclaim as he walked out of sight,
'Happy Christmas to ME....What a night, What a night!'
Hope it makes you smile. Happy Christmas from Me!