I posted this last year, but felt it could do with another outing. Merry Christmas everyone!
Twelve days of Christmas
A variation on a theme
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
A partridge in a pear tree.
Well, here’s what I thought of that gift,
My true love’s mind must have been adrift.
The pear tree wasn’t even so bad,
It certainly didn’t drive me mad.
The culprit was indeed the bird,
My love for them was immediately cured.
I was amazed by its attitude,
Caviar was its only chosen food!
Now, if my true love had only thought,
The tree and bird wouldn’t have been bought.
Instead he could have gotten me a negligee,
Which I happily would have worn all Christmas Day!
Promising a lot of fun and afternoon delight,
Lasting well into the night!
When my true love arrived on day two,
He gave me a basket: “That’s for you!”
He said, pointing at two turtle doves.
“Those two are a sign of real true love”.
Now, what thoughts had entered his head?
My love for birds was already dead!
Turtle doves did not change a single thing,
Especially if they behaved like queen and king!
All day long I heard roocoos,
And then they found my Jimmy Choos!
They must have thought it was a winter’s fest,
A great place for them to build their nest!
With all of their royal zeal,
They picked and pecked at the poor high heels.
I cried, but then my dear,
Promised a better gift: “Don’t fear!”
However, day three did not get any better.
Three French hens and not even on a platter!
That I wouldn’t have minded much,
My true love was definitely out of touch.
All day long the hens went ooh-la-la.
All I could think of was foie gras!
Perhaps some drumsticks, nice and hot!
But live hens? Definitely not…
A partridge, the doves and now the hens.
My true love didn’t have any common sense!
Birds in any form or shape?
I just wanted to escape.
Roasted hens with onions, my mouth did water,
But that would have meant I had to slaughter!
I wasn’t really up for that.
Perhaps I needed to get a cat…
On the next day came four calling birds.
They made a racket like you’ve never heard.
What was he thinking when he thought,
More fowl is what I sought?
The house was filling to the brim,
The living room started looking grim
Poo everywhere and it stank!
And I had my own true love to thank.
I don’t know who they called all day,
Rosalind? Jennifer? Maggie May?
My true love thought it was a hoot,
I just wanted to give them the boot.
Unfortunately the boots were filled with grubs,
And the heels of my Choos were now just stubs.
All I wanted to do was holler and wail,
And end this sorry sorry tale!
And then finally some gold rings!
That sure was a fantastic thing...
But again he made me look like a tool.
The five were made for a certified fool.
Not really gold, oh no!
Cheap imitation, the jeweler told me so!
However, it’s the thought that counts,
Or so my true love found.
The rings turned my fingers fluorescent green
Even in the dark they could be seen!
I wanted it off, it was quite urgent,
But it couldn’t be done, not even with strong detergent!
Finally after over an hour,
I found the answer: use something sour!
So, now my fingers smell like limes.
I was hoping for better times!
More fowl arrived on day six,
Throwing more mayhem into the mix.
When the geese arrived at my frontdoor,
I nearly fell to the floor!
The only thing stopping me was the poo,
The place looked like an unclean zoo.
The geese were nasty: they hissed,
They tried to bite me and barely missed.
I managed to lock them in the bathroom,
Using a very heavy witch’s broom.
Eggs soon started to fill the place,
It seemed as if they had a race.
The tub, the sink, the windowsill,
They didn’t even use any skill!
The floor was covered with debris
I would need more than pot pourri!
On day seven came the swans
They pecked right through my long johns
The curtains had already gone
Eaten by a stupid swan
The water they left all through the house
Drowned even my poor pet mouse!
Everywhere they went it was wet,
I just wanted to go to bed!
But my bed now looked like a huge big nest
It looked like they were on a quest
To completely wreck my lovely home
I wanted to move to Rome!
But I really really had to stay
If only for a few more days.
So said my dear true love
But I had had enough!
Then finally on day eight
No birds arrived and it was great
Instead eight maids walked in with stools
Those were their proper milking tools
Milking stools for huge big cows
Eight of them, roaming around my house!
Everywhere I looked was hay and straw
My true love had a massive flaw!
The house resembled a zoo by now
All those birds and now the cows
But even worse was yet to come
It mightn’t be a surprise to some…
My true love started flirting with a maid
He acted like he was in twelfth grade
A little pubescent boy in heat
I nearly kicked him out in the street
I should have done, oh yes, I know
Because next day came another blow
More ladies arrived with dancing shoes
And I rapidly turned to the booze
They jumped and jeteed and they tapped
They swirled and twirled and I nearly snapped
I was ready to scream and shoo them all out
But apparently it’s not ladylike to shout
My manners were however disappearing fast
I don’t know how I had to last
Another three days of this mayhem
I wanted rid of all of them.
Poison, drowning, slaughterhouse
Kill every single awful louse.
Then send all those women packing
They drove me mad with all their yacking!
And then finally on day ten,
There arrived some gorgeous men.
But alas, they leaped those lords,
Nearly cracking the floor boards.
One of them actually fell through to the cellar
At least something I found stellar
Another one jumped too high and hit the ceiling
It must have been a nasty feeling!
By now it was my true love who was jealous
Of all those jumping and leaping fellas
Because hey let’s face it, now I was flirting
Even to me it was disconcerting.
But they looked good in their leotards
Then my love gave them his regards,
Shoving them into the garden shed,
Where they got stuck between the bike and the sled.
Day eleven saw the pipers
And they were über hyper!
While pushing the maids out of their way,
They just continued to play.
Eggs got broken, milk was spilt,
Even my flowers started to wilt,
Due to the noise the pipers made.
It looked as if they were ready to invade!
The house by now was a warzone
With my true love on its throne.
Pipers, dancers and all those critters
Doing away with all the Christmas glitter!
My poor nerves were slowly being shot,
Happy with my true love I was not.
He then promised me I could choose myself,
What I wanted on day twelve!
But did he listen, did he ever!?
He was on this great endeavour.
Twelve drummers arrived in all their glory,
Definitely making this a horror story.
The drummers were all very large,
The largest one was actually called sarge.
The sounds and the overbearing stench,
Was turning me into a mumbling wench.
The pear tree was rooting in the hall,
Where the dancers were organizing a masked ball.
The birds were not happy with each other,
Picking and pecking away, oh brother!
Feathers were flying everywhere,
And I can tell you, I’d had my share,
Of all those gifts my true love gave.
Just a few more hours to be brave!
Well, guess what! On day thirteen,
My true love was nowhere to be seen.
Because by the end of day twelve,
I, yes, I myself,
Threw a fit as never seen before,
And I kicked my true love and his gifts straight out the door!
Out they went, onto the street,
That feeling felt so incredibly sweet!
Of course there still was the mess to clean,
And I can tell you, it was an awful scene!
But it was fine, it really was,
Even if my true love was the cause.
He never listened, he didn’t care
He acted as if I wasn’t even there
So what did I want for Christmas? What did I miss?
Only an “I love you” and a little kiss!