Don't Mention It!
The end of year comes round once more Brings fun and fluster to our door
Too early do the shops partake
In all this joy, for money’s sake
Children learn the age-old songs To the schools their parents throng And watch the little ones perform In reverence to a baby born
The older ones will form a choir In churches where we’ll all admire Their pure sweet voices ringing out What this time’s really all about
Then one night we’ll all troop down To the centre of the town
Where for days some electricians Produced a scene – as if magicians
A big round man in red and white Crops up all over, day and night Children gaze with eyes wide open And any doubts remain unspoken
One huge plant, bought fresh and fragrant Or down from attic, causing torment As adults strive to sit it right
And twist and tweak till, all alight
Stands proudly tall, in pride of place
And we think it takes up too much space
Letters written, sealed and sent
Who knows where they ever went? Requests for gifts and toys galore To come from Fairyland – or some store
A little fellow on a shelf
Bribes kids to behave themselves
Excitedly they go to bed
Meant to sleep, but instead
They listen for the sound of boot Landing with a thump in soot
But sleep wins out, in dreams they fly With prancing animals in the sky
Next morning they awake to find
He’s tricked them once again – but mind He took their food, the cake and porter But what he left! A worthwhile barter Wrappings torn mid shouts and squeals As they find what each reveals
Parents smile and so relieved
Kids are happy with what received
In the kitchen the banalities
Hoping there’ll be no calamities
Mum peels and chops – it feels an age And like a gardenful of veg
Soon good smells will emanate Causing guests to salivate
Round the table they all gather To enjoy a well-filled platter
Of bird and pig with all the trimmings The best of all, this yearly dinner
Let’s not mention all the chores
The washing-up and cleaning floors Just move on until it’s late
When, with chocolates replete We can take a well-earned rest
Yes! We survived another fest
Next day a lie-in – such a treat
Won’t cook at all, put up my feet
Just calming chamomile will pass my lips Thank God! It’s now the twenty-sixth.
- Anne M Griffin