The Poet Of Christmas Past
By Andy Sutton
Did you spy the
door knocker changing?
Did your ears hear chains being hauled?
Which foretell three poets shall join you
Past, Present, Future we’re called
It's too late to
hope you'll escape us
The dice of this haunting is cast
The first one is nigh, so be ready
The Poet of Christmases Past
Some two-thousand
times have I been here
Plus twenty-three more years are gone
It's hard to remember at my age
They sort of all merge into one
Christmas began in
year zero
Long before reindeer and sprouts
Long before Dudley Moore elf had
Some awkward but logical doubts
First one was small,
in a stable
Though much of it seems like a blur
Was it gold that was left as a gift then?
But frankincense, really? And myrrh?
Along came performing
of pantos
With low rent celebrity cast
I tell you, be glad each one’s over
Those terrible Christmases past
Forgettable
X Factor singles
Except Rage Against the Machine
And tiresome John Lewis adverts
We’ve even had Covid nineteen
When young they were
full of excitement
With so many markets and fairs
I'm too old for that, I'm just grateful
If I know why I came upstairs
So watch out for
someone much sharper
Who champions worker and peasant
And offers more cynical views as
The Poet of Christmas that’s Present
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