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Aunty Christmas? ©

Danny Reynolds
Dalton in Furness, England
2005

Christmas comes but once a year,
though we pay for it all year round.
The latest conservative average spend,
around Four Hundred and Fifty Pound!

How much of this is spent on tat,
you wouldn’t normally buy?
Like the delicate, subtle fruity tang,
of the stupidly named “Mince Pie!”

And don’t forget the crackers,
Proving some folk will buy owt.
(Be sure to get the non-banging type,
or you’ll have some bugger’s eye out!)

Chocolate oranges, Cream liquers,
Ferment in your stomach, that’s for sure.
A Yuletide mixture, far from pure.
(Proved by the consistency, of your Christmas manure!)

Figs, dates, nuts and those wee Satsumas,
Exert great pressure upon your bloomers.
Then you top it all off, with Turkey and sprouts,
Brewing gaseous emissions, to torture our snouts.

Now open the pressies, and see what you’ve got.
Never mind, it’s all crud, just think of the thought!
It’s not how much, they had left in their purse,
It’s the true joy of knowing, you got them something worse.

Pass the Humbugs please?



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