I am an extremely enthusiastic backer,
Of the cult of the Christmas cracker.
Trouble is they can be, quite elementary,
Or have that extra polish, finesse and lacquer!

They are always filled with this and that,
A stupid joke, a paper hat,
A cracker snap that goes off with a zap,
They simply follow the same basic format.

One year I decided to make my own,
And so I went for your basic clone,
I asked people to choose, their favourite booze,
And a small bottle * became the lodestone.**

* a miniature bottle (pop for the kids)
** an item with magnetic properties

I built a snowman yesterday,
And the kid from down the road,
Thought it rather feeble,
And started behaving like a toad.
He told me it was useless,
That it looked like Gunga Din,
And something strange then happened,
Some may feel that it’s a sin.,,
My snowman took exception,
And it may seem surreal,
But when I came back outside,
My man had had a meal,
The little lad was buried
Deep inside the snow,
His head inside the snowman’s gob,
Feet dangling down below.
It took a while to pull him out,
But finally he emerged,
I told him ’twas his rudeness,
That had got him so submerged.

Rudolph’s the most famous,

Because his nose is red,

But the other reindeer mock him,

For having no street cred.

Dasher is the lead stag,

And he’s alongside  Vixen,

Cupid’s twinned with Comet,

And Donner, obviously,

With Blitzen.

In the rear is Prancer,

Who’s alongside Dancer,

And these two are the really strong,

To really pull the sleigh along….

So if you see a flash of red,

It’s Santa flying overhead.

Have you put fairy lights on your tree,
So they can twinkle steadfastly?
Wrapped round the trunk, spread across the boughs,
To signal celebration and all that allows.
I don’t like fussy or complicated,
I like really subtle and understated.
We’ve also got some on our bay trees outside,
To welcome our guests as they arrive.

Take a good onion and stud it with clove,
Then drop into milk and put it on the stove,
Add in a bayleaf or two to give it some taste,
More than that number would just be a waste.
Simmer it gently, so the aromas infuse,
Checking it often for small residues.
Add it to breadcrumbs, preferably stale,
Make sure you stir it, or your sauce will fail,
Add in some nutmeg, some pepper and salt,
Then let all the flavours your senses assault.
A Prince of the sauce boat, well that’s what I feel,
So please serve it to me with every darned meal!

Are you, like me, an advent calendar buff*,
Who simply cannot get enough,
Of the current ones, filled with little chocs,
It’s the ultimate smorgasbord chocolate box!
The one I have now has class and panache,
Each day brings me truffles, praline or ganache!
Or how about those of the digital kind,
That bring daily delights that are hidden behind?
An Edwardian House aka Downton Abbey,
Well none of us would find that mean or shabby!
Or how about traveling around London Town?
What a splendid way to do Christmas countdown!
They come in every shape and size,
And each one carries it’s own surprise.
When I think of the ones WE had when I was a kid,
If you gave one of those now, well God forbid!
I’m waiting for Harrods to join in the fun,
And produce one with iPhones and Xbox One!

* for American readers, don’t be alarmed, a buff is a word for an expert in the UK

My love has bought some mistletoe,
Under which we shall be kissing,
Each time we go to and fro,
But there’s something that she’s missing.
I shall not resist when she kisses me,
But this she does not know,
When I hold her tenderly,
I shall not be letting go!

I may be an adult, but I still love my stocking,
To wake up without one would be truly shocking,
It really isn’t Santa who delivers, I know,
It is my partner, creeping, with a yo-ho-ho!

A huge pile of rubbish,
Just dumped on the land,
How they think it can’t hurt it,
I don’t understand,
It’s smelly and dirty
And so clearly not good,
But this my dear reader,
Is my ‘neighbourhood’.
An unwanted present,
A rash Christmas gift,
And now my existence,
Is destined for this.
Life on the scrap heap
Is my destiny,
Unless you take pity
And come rescue me…
Come here tomorrow,
Come here even sooner,
Please bring some milk,
And a nice bowl of tuna,
You know you want me,
A nice little cat,
Who’ll turn from an alley-,
Into an aristoc(r)at!
I’ll repay you in spades,
If you give me affection,
Love you and cherish my
World free from rejection.
I’m just a small creature,
With oodles to give,
If you, in return,
Give me somewhere to live…
I don’t ask for much,
Just to not be alone,
And to have somewhere
I can truly call home.

This photo has been going the rounds on the web. The trick is to try to find the little black and white cat that is doomed to live on this rubbish heap. Good luck finding the cat and taking her/him home with you!

My darling came home with a wreath,
To beautify the door beneath,
They’re Rowan berries tightly bound,
Then cinched tight to make a round,
No decoration heretofore,
But now this wreath adorns our door,
Judge for yourself just how it looks,
And no! You cannot see the hooks!!
It’s a sight to welcome every guest,
And yes, I feel this home is blessed.