poem by jll 3

Santa's Plight

Ho ho, blooming ho

My bloody paunch will have to go

I am stuck in this flaming chimney pot

And it’s still flaming bloody hot

Mrs Santa feeds me up

And gives me lots of wine to sup

She doesn’t realise my plight

The job I have on Christmas night

She thinks this present game’s a doddle

And doesn’t notice that I wobble

Oh my god what shall I do

Still stuck in this bloody flue

I have this sack full of toys

For all these greedy girls and boys

They seem to want the earth and more

Much more than the year before

I really hope it’s worth my while

And I get wine and mincemeat pie

Good will to all men, my foot

What, when my beard is full of soot!