Before the Goose Gets Fat
The shops begin at Halloween,
The orange swapped for red and green,
The lights and tinsel far too keen,
The cakes too full of plumbs.
But I just shrug at so much cheese
While leaves remain upon the trees,
And don’t succumb to the disease
Till the week that Christmas comes.
The radio will cast its spells
With earworms full of tinkling bells –
But I tune-out their jolly hells
For heavy metal drums.
My headphones shall see much employ
To block all crooning for the Boy –
At least, until I join the joy
In the week that Christmas comes.
There’s not a spruce within my croft,
The baubles still sit up the loft –
And there they’ll stay till Autumn’s doffed,
And robins scrap for crumbs.
You’ll find no streamers round my walls,
No mistletoe or choc’late balls –
Until, that is, I deck the halls
For the week that Christmas comes.
And when the shortest day is looming,
So my bonhomie starts booming –
Time to plan what to consume
In a spread as good as Mum’s.
But there’s only so much I can take,
Before the shine begins to flake –
I must delay, or else I’ll break
By the week that Christmas comes.
Rhyming Couplets 