T’was the night before Christmas
and, in our house
nothing was stirring,
no rat, bat or mouse,
but mousse made appearance
and trifle with cream,
it’s Christmas eve,
time to fantasise, dream.
The tree is waiting
for baubles and balls,
holly and ivy
deck up the halls,
home is so…homely
at Christmas
and neat,
with carpets fresh vacuumed
and dusting complete.
Parsnips, potatoes,
sprouts and fine wine,
sherry and cabbage
and walnuts sublime;
bacon and turkey,
pudding and snow,
pigs in their blankets,
tree lights all aglow.
Christmas memories of bygone years,
look to the future,
enjoy a few beers.

Polly Stretton © 2018