I am happy to kick things off for December with a slightly wry and well observed piece by lassfromlancashire, entitled ‘Afterwards’.
It’s the day after the day after Christmas
The kids have got bored with their toys
They’ve broken the trainset and eaten their sweets
And they’re making one hell of a noise.
Dad sits by the fire with a paper
And tries to work out what it cost
For the turkey, the booze and the mincepies
But gives up the struggle as lost.
In the kitchen Mum looks at the carcass
Can they scrape one more meal from the bird?
Her head aches, they’ve run out of aspirin
“I’m knackered! Aye, that’s the right word!”
Miss Jenkins, now eighty and housebound
Sits alone in her thirteenth-floor flat
Feasted and fussed over at Christmas
Now left like some jumble sale hat.
How generous we all are at Christmas
So full of good will and good cheer
We’ve a real Christian spirit at Christmas:
But what of the rest of the year?