The spirit of Christmas
We wanted to leave you a little rhyme
But it’s not very good as we ran out of time.
We wanted to tell you of frozen pipes
And of no water supply from morning ‘till night;
Of frost thick as snow, and freezing fog;
And a warm friendly fire, stacked high with logs.
(But no wonder the portrait is going cross-eyed -
With the flames beneath licking painfully high!)
The Christmas presents, and hot mulled wine,
And the Grandfather clock, with it’s midnight chimes.
It’s a great hall for ghost stories deep in the night -
Lit only by flickering candle light;
Though a few water bottles would ease the plight
Of we girls with no man to cuddle at night!
We weren’t going to mention the slanting hall floor,
Or the funny old lock on the bathroom door;
Or the damned smoke alarm that fooled everyone,
And told us when Christmas dinner was done;
Or the woodworm with holes big enough for a mouse,
Or the draughty old gaps in this quirky old house.
(Though we found a good use for the corks from our wine -
Join us if you wish - see how many you find!)
And the great beams that resemble a jig-saw puzzle,
Or the cockrel and cows that need a good muzzle!
But we met with no ghosts whilst on our stay -
So perhaps, just like us, they were on holiday;
And we found the best spirits right here in our glass -
Which we now raise to you - house guests present and past.
Though one day we encountered a funny old chap -
He had a white beard, and he carried a sack;
He said “Merry Christmas” and went on his way,
And appeared to depart in a reindeer-drawn sleigh.
Perhaps we’d raised glasses in too many toasts -
Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was one of those ghosts!
We leave you to decide……..
