A Christmas Tale.

And now for another poem, this one is called:

A Christmas Tale.

Santa was cross, he'd had a bad day.
His elves were on strike for more overtime pay.
Mrs Claus was complaining she had no help in the house
And nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.

And Donner and Dancer and Cupid and Blitzen
had gone off in a 'hoof' since early last Whitsun'.
Santa’s lights wouldn't flash and his bells wouldn't ring
and his Jing wouldn't Jang and his Jang wouldn't Jing.

So he asked Mrs. Claus for the weather forecast
and wished Christmas present would become Christmas past.
Global warming has meant there'll be no snow this year,
so she said, "Sorry my luv, there will just be 'rain dear!"

On top of it all, he'd the presents to sort
and political correctness had made the task fraught.
No dolls for the girls or guns for the boys,
no fireworks that bang or pollute with their noise.

No harm to their teeth from a sweet or a lolly.

But poor old Santa still had to be jolly

No games full of noise, no games full of violence
Children only want books to guarantee silence.

No caffeine filled drinks to cause tension and stress.
No glue and no paint, because of the mess.
No jigsaws with pieces that some children could choke on
and nothing too fragile that would only get 'broke-on'.

No feathers or fur and nothing of leather.
Nothing too simple and nothing too clever.
Nothing too nasty and nothing too scary.
Like horrible monsters all smelly and hairy

Nothing with e-numbers or colourings that might
give them a rash and cause itching all night.
No balls and no bats which could injure or bruise
and nothing with bits they were certain to lose.

No marbles or beads that a small child could fit
up its nose, in its ears or unmentionable bit.
And trees must be from a sustainable source
and the lights must be energy saving, of course!

And gone were the days when their only goal
was to get an apple, an orange and a small piece of coal.
Now an X box, computer and colour TV
was what they all asked for when they sat on your knee.

And he was tired and fed up of appearing so jolly
and he knew what he'd like them to do with their holly!
And he was sick of clambering about on those roofs
now he wasn't as nimble as he was in his 'yoof'.

And he hated the folks who said, "No pets at all,
a puppy's for life not for Christmas", they call.
Well it's OK for them looking all smug

But you should see what those puppies have done on his rug

In spite of it all, at the end of the night
he'll have managed to give every child something right.
And he'll sit by the fire with a big jug of beer
and wish you all, "Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"