Tuesday, 24 December 2013

The Night Before Christmas (Chelsea Style) - written by Kate Hodge


‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the place,
 The I.P’s were sleeping, a smile on each face.
No doubt each reliving a Christmas gone by,
One turned with a chuckle, another one sighed.
Outside over roof tops now laden with snow,
A jolly old gentleman gaily did go,
Full well did he realize and understood too,
That these adults no longer believed he was true.
The problem, of course, was that they had grown up
And forsaken, with childhood, that “Santa Claus” stuff.
He wasn’t offended, he simply felt sad,
Remembering all the fine times that they’d had,
When still with the trusting of innocent youth,
They’d believed in him wholly – accepting the truth.
Well! obviously now they wouldn’t want toys,
So what could he leave them?  these fine old boys.
He rummaged around in his sleigh full of sacks,
Whilst the reindeer kept shaking the snow from their backs.
At last he uncovered the box that he sought,
Marked  “Special Gifts Only – these cannot be bought”.
He carefully sorted each package with care,
Ensuring that each I.P. got his fair share.
Some Love and Respect; some Consideration;
Some Peace and Contentment and Anticipation of
Calm and Tranquility, Humour and Health
And a great deal of those things each wished for himself.
He smiled as he wrapped up each portion in prayer,
For he knew they would never believe he’d been there.
Then leaving his gifts, for each Soul sleeping sound.
He climbed back aboard and continued this rounds.

                                                          Kate Hodge   London 1990

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