Remember, remember, it still is November

Right, a couple of things I need to make clear before we launch into this one.

Firstly, I’m not against Christmas decorations per se. I just think a couple of weeks of them is PLENTY (yes, and that applies to your Christmas jumpers too, peak-too-sooners).

Secondly, this poem has NOTHING to do with the fact that I have a mid-December birthday and think everything leading up to, and including, my birthday should be ALL ABOUT ME. So, now that’s all clear, without further ado…

Remember, remember, it still is November

Remember, remember, it still is November,

Although the frost’s starting to bite,

For while those last leaves still cling to the trees,

STEP AWAY FROM THE ICICLE LIGHTS!

Resist your fake snow, your flashing “HO HO”,

Treat inflatable Santa with caution,

For he surely will burst by December the first,

If you’re blowing him up in the autumn.

By December the twelfth, the elf on the shelf

will hide in the pub with a half,

And before Christmas Eve, all the reindeer will leave,

Because Lapland is more of a laugh.

Your nativity scene will be mouldy and green,

There’ll be actual lichen on Mary,

Your chattering Santa will be out of banter,

Having bored the tits off the good fairy.

“Will we EVER get there?” wail the kids in despair,

As they gaze through the glass, looking bleak,

“With the house so festooned, Christmas MUST be SO SOON!”

“No it’s not, kids. It’s over six weeks.”

So – you want Christmas day to be happy and gay?

Dear readers, what have we discovered?

Remember, remember, until mid-December,

Keep Christmassy crap in the cupboard!

Like the rhymes?

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Spread the rhymes!

Remember, remember, it still is November

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