'Tis The Season

It's been a while since I updated the blog. No excuses - I've been dividing my time between doing other things and... doing absolutely nothing. That's not to say I haven't been writing some poetry - primarily for the Pub Poets events - so I'll add the Christmas poem I wrote for the December event. I know that the seasonal hiatus has now passed, but now you have the chance to reminisce without the alcoholic haze.

[Note for non-UK readers - DFS are a company who advertise on TV selling furniture, and it is a running joke that they are forever having new sales]

'tis The Season

‘Tis the season – ivy, holly, Carols playing – very jolly,
Digging out the Christmas tree, Festive adverts on TV,
Watch the new John Lewis ad, Argue if it’s good or bad,
Stores competing for success, Winter sales from DFS.

‘Tis the season to go shopping, Carols playing – never stopping,
Weather starting to go colder, Greetings yelled by Noddy Holder,
Christmas lights appear in trees, Toys invoking children’s pleas,
Will the parents acquiesce? Further sales from DFS.

‘Tis the season to go spending, Carols playing – never ending
Trying hard to disregard – The urge to use the credit card,
Chestnuts, cheeseboards all about, The enigmatic Brussel sprout –
Eaten under some duress. Another sale from DFS.

‘Tis the season to go buying, Carols playing – very trying,
on all those T.V. promos too – Strictly, Sherlock, Doctor Who
Tinsel and Baubles put up then – We’ll shortly take them down again.
The price of stamps: the cards cost less. Yet more sales from DFS. 

‘Tis the season to overspend; Will those carols ever end?
The time of year is certain when, The famous grouse appears again,
But the three drinks inebriant are*: Sherry, Baileys and advocaat.
Alcohol to great excess. Miss a sale from DFS.

‘Tis the season to booze and scoff. I’ve scared the carol singers off.
I’ve locked the door and dimmed the light. I’ll settle for a silent night.
Some box-sets if I change my mind; In case I feel that way inclined.
I call it Dodging Festive Stress – abbreviated – D F S.

* To be read in a manner reminiscent of "We Three Kings of Orient Are"