Friday, August 3, 2007

For Children on Christmas Eve

Santa’s dead, he died last May,
I’m sorry, girls and boys.
What will you do on Christmas Day
Without your precious toys?

Apparently he had a stroke,
Whilst shouting at his elves,
I always said that those who smoke
Can only blame themselves.

They buried him beneath the ice
The service was quite tasteful.
A simple headstone did suffice
For fear of being wasteful.

The elves then gathered in the hall,
To organise a meeting.
They passed a motion first of all
To reignite the heating.

And then they had a tête-à-tête
To sort out as to whether
It would be better to forget
‘Bout Christmas altogether.

The upshot of the meeting was
They voted for strike action.
No sign of any money ‘cos
Of Santa’s gross inaction.

Tonight is the first Christmas Eve
When reindeer won’t be flying.
I know that it’s hard to believe,
But what’s the point in crying?

So hush, my darlings, close your eyes,
Forget about your sorrow
And please don’t look for a surprise
When you get up tomorrow.

No comments: