With thanks to Peter Wyllie, book seller, sometime poet and visitor to this corner of the food court ...

Away with the manger

No crib and no bed

No little Lord Jesus

Just Santa instead.

The stars on the Tele

Sing songs for the poor

And charity mail shots

Beg me to give more.

The reindeer are flying

Across the night sky

With a sleigh full of presents

Wrapped up and piled high.

I love it at Christmas

With lights on the tree

With gifts piled beneath it

All labelled for me.

The taxman is gloating

And smiling with glee

All Profit for him

And no Prophet for me!

Bless all the dear shoppers

At this time of year

The point has been lost now

Forever I fear!

© Peter Wyllie December 2006.