Today’s poem

TOO EARLY FOR CHRISTMAS?

Remember, remember, the fifth of November? Not gunpowder, treason or plot. It’s recalled as the day that the shop down the way Had its Christmas display — well, so what?

It’s accepted by now that we scatter and plough All the fields at the first sign of spring, And the blossom appears (or it has in past years) In the summer, when birds on the wing.

But as soon as the Fall — as we used to call it — Has browned the first quivering leaf, Springing up in each city — the lights! Yes,

they’re pretty; But two months too early. Good grief!

I’ve just had an idea (not for me, that is clear) But for all those with numerous aunts: Christmas greetings to each? Write your cards on the beach. One more job to tick off in advance!

And I know there are folk — I assure you, no joke — Buy their gifts in the sale when it comes. The boxes are packed, all labelled and wrapped, Then they just sit and twiddle their thumbs.

For my generation the anticipation Was what made our Christmases fun, But to anticipate from November the eighth? Nearly two months? It just can’t be done.

So let’s deck the halls with the glittery balls Mid-December — sound about right? We don’t need much fuss On the day it’s just us And Jesus, whose birthday’s that night.

We’ll have all the stress and the last-minute mess, Let’s be busy and run off our legs And then, at the end, pretend we intend To go out and buy Easter Eggs!