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        by Hazel Taylor 


T’was a month before Christmas

and in the spare room

were boxes of cards

and some cheapo perfume.


The present came last year

from dear Uncle Fred;

now I wonder who’d like it

this year instead?


Cards laced with charity

all sparkling and twee,

with angels and robins

and a tall Christmas tree.


I need some new blu tac

and labels and paper.

The stamps dent my pension

and so will a hamper.


Too late to make puddings -

Tesco’s will do.

Some jelly and custard

and a cup of strong brew.


The turkey is thawed

and the innards are out,

it’s snuggled in tin-foil

and stuffed with one sprout.


The tree lights have fused,

Uncle Charles nearly chokes.

But we pull Christmas crackers

and read out the jokes.


T’was the day after Christmas;

cold turkey and beer.

I’m fed up with Christmas,

I’ll go skiing next year!

Holly Plant
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