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