SPARE A THOUGHT FOR SANTA by Patricia Feinberg Stoner

“God rest ye merry gentlemen!” I hear the people say.
They’re getting all excited cos it’s nearly Christmas day.

It’s time I got a move on, and never mind me feet,
Me chilblains, me lumbago, nor rain, nor snow, nor sleet.

OH – I’m harnessing me reindeer and loading up me sleigh,
And putting on me muffler, cos Santa’s on his way.
Ho ho ho

Hey, Rudolph! Where’s ‘e gone, then? I bet I flipping knows:
He’s skived off down the boozer with ‘is boozer’s flipping nose.
(Why d’you suppose it’s rose? It’s pink from drink!)
Ho ho ho

OH – I hates the flipping chimneys they never thinks to sweep
And all the pussyfooting while the kiddies is asleep.

And I hates the flipping driving, especially after dark,
And it isn’t always easy to find a place to park.

And while we’re on the subject, I think it’s pretty thick
All this flying round the country when air travel makes me sick.

BUT I’m harnessing me reindeer and loading up me sleigh
And pulling furry boots on cos Santa’s on his way.
Ho ho ho

Oh, it’s time I joined a union – A Santa’s TUC –
But it wouldn’t really work, cos there’s only one of me.

And that’s another matter that gets me on the raw:
Them flipping understudies you see in every store.

It’s not as if I minds it when I sees me face to face
In Morrison’s or Tesco’s – or any flipping place

But where’s the recognition for a job I’ve done so long?
And, come the New Year honours, why don’t I get a gong?

STILL, I’m harnessing me reindeer and loading up me sleigh,
And filling a hot bottle cos Santa’s on his way.
Ho ho ho

There’s just one ray of comfort that stops me feeling sore:
Me working year’s a day long, and the hol’s three sixty four!

So spare a thought for Santa as you feast and play and dance.
I’ll be celebrating Christmas in the sunny south of France.

OH – I’ve unharnessed all me reindeer and emptied out me sleigh.
Come wine! Come song! Come women! Cos Santa’s on his way.

Ho ho ho
H-hiccup
(scuse me).

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About Rosemary Noble

Writer, author, amateur historian and traveller
This entry was posted in Poem and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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