- Holidays and Celebrations
A Christmas Cavil - or naughty thoughts of Christmas past or present.
A Christmas Cavil
Christmas is coming, the time is drawing near,
The relatives are restless – devoid of any cheer,
Where will they spend Christmas day? (lunch and tea and supper.)
They choose my place, they always do,
‘Jeeze, not again,’ I mutter.
Of crass commercial Christmas, I’ve surely had my fill,
The only people happy are those gloating at the till,
Show me the peace, the love, the joy, the hope of Yuletides past,
I sense the only spirit left,
Is swirling in a glass.
From afar my guests arrive, bearing beer and casks of wine,
I’m sweltering in the kitchen, the temp hits 39.
We practice hugging, kissing – just hypocrisy I fear,
We only deign to congregate,
On Christmas day each year.
(excluding compulsory weddings and funerals)
I’ve received the Manual for Senior Survival twice,
And the apron someone knitted me is really rather nice!
Oh what a lovely thought my dear – a Jenny Craig subscription,
I’ll buy an extra gift for you,
(is arsenic on prescription?)
Annabelle has bought me Shalimar, the price is still intact,
We know damn well she’s loaded, why advertise the fact?
A raw silk blouse from Joanne, only one size too small,
But I’m a sucker for French labels,
The one says – St V. de Paul.
(a charitable thought).
Who gave me these earrings, it really isn’t clear,
Ah yes, it’s Auntie Doreen, she was wearing them last year,
And of course I love the puppy (you can guess his pedigree)
It’s just that he’s so boisterous and keeps,
Piddling on our tree.
(We could all be electrocuted.)
The turkey and potatoes cooked – the pudding starts to simmer,
We join our hands to thank someone – did He/She cook the dinner?
Auntie has her annual weep-she’s tipsy from the sherry,
She misses her loving husband James,
He shot through with my aunt Nellie,
(20 years ago)
They leave en masse, content at last, all glowing, bright and mellow,
I stack the dishes; feed the pup, my face is tired and yellow,
Oh Santa dear, a cruise next year, Tahiti sounds divine,
But I guess somehow, 12 months from now,
I’ll say ‘same place, same time.’