Christmas Poem
Christmas is a coming
And we'll all be getting fatter
But at this time of year
It really doesn't matter
The turkey'll be stuffed
With lovely sausagemeat
The table will be dressed
Looking good and really neat
We'll be making roast potatoes
And also pigs in a blanket
The food will be aplenty
Rather like a banquet
There'll be sprouts on our plate
After which we'll be trumping
We'll stuff our belly way too much
And end up like a dumpling
To finish we'll have afters
Of Christmas pud and custard
By now we'll be feeling stuffed
Our trousers almost busted
After dinner we'll sing carols
Squealing like a crazy cat
We'll pull a Christmas cracker
Then wear a silly hat
We'll tell pathetic jokes
And laugh like cackling hens
We'll be pulling silly faces
Down the camera lens
The beer and wine will flow
The eggnog'll make an appearance
In time we'll start to slur our words
Slowly becoming incoherent
Then off to bed We'll go
To dream a happy dream
When we awake we will have
Some Christmas pud and Cream!
poem by Bev Haigh
Added by Poetry Lover
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