Twas the Night before Christmas by Denise Jones
Twas the night before Christmas, upstairs in the house
Warmly snuggled in bed was my snoring spouse
He’d had a few scoops, so a bit worse for wear
Leaving me to hang stockings by the fireside with care
Every year brings on panic; I rush to invest
In mountains of food, drink, and all the rest
But on Christmas Eve, nagging doubts set in
So, I sit here drinking a large glass of gin
For when present buying, I get in a bind
I hesitate and falter and change my mind
Presents don’t always get the impact desired
Alan Sugar would loudly shout; you’re fired!
With everything nowadays costing so much
What kids ask for, sounds double Dutch
iPad and iPod; they all sound the same
Then of course there’s that Nintendo Wii game
What happened to an orange and selection box?
Or purse or pyjamas or mountain of socks
With teenagers now into designer tags
They’re all wannabe celebrities or famous wags
It’s now Burberry, Dior, Boss and Versace
Chanel, Armani, Moschino and Gucci
And perfume doesn’t always go down so well
Prompts the response, ‘So you think I smell?’
From M & S you now get a gift receipt
Their returns service being so hard to beat
But to get a full refund in the New Year
You must start queuing in August my dear!
Is it worth the expense, worry and pain?
Christmas without presents, just isn’t the same
To hear children’s squeals as they jump with glee
When they find, their presents stacked under the tree
Seeing faces light up is a sight to be seen
When they realise Santa Claus has actually been
So I really wouldn’t have it any other way
‘Cause I love opening MY presents each Christmas day!
Poem by Denise Jones of Formby Writers