12-07-2025, 10:51 PM
"The Christmas Spirits"
Deck the halls with bourbon whiskey,
the kind that makes your uncle tipsy.
That liberates his wandering tongue
for filthy limericks, boozily sung.
Give granny her pudding, steeped in rum.
so she can join the rowdy fun.
Mother has hit the sherry hard,
and now she's juggling greetings cards.
Mulled wine is poured for yuletide toasts,
quaffed by the gallon in drunken boasts.
By Boxing Day the cellar runs dry;
the household groans hungover sighs.
Tho winter months may be dark and dreary,
with spiritual help, they pass more cheery.
"The Day Before Christmas"
'Tis the day before Christmas,
and all round I rush, quite witless.
With crates of tinsel, strings of lights,
I deck the rooms in festive delight.
The meal I've planned in full detail
I now prepare with believer's zeal.
Veggies chopped, puddings now sorted,
bird marinading in mulled porter.
I clean the house from top to toe,
knowing my guests will chide me so.
Then rush to shops, the crowds to beat,
for leafy salads none will eat.
Christmas comes but once each year,
and makes me moan while others cheer.
"Yuleide Groans"
Now is the time for us to sing,
and wine and brandy forth to bring.
To load the Christmas table high,
with chocolate log and crisp mince pie.
Yet there's a "humbug!" for each "Hurrah!"
from folks who think it goes too far--
The miserable sorts who'd rather moan,
stroking cats and wishing they're alone.
Yet even for these poor lost souls,
the season warms their hearts like coals.
Thru gritted teeth, they grunt their cheer,
and drown their pique in Christmas beer.
The season's bright with prickly holly,
So we may as well pretend we're jolly.
I am not looking for critique on these, they are just jokes, but any thoughts on the meter would be appreciated.
Deck the halls with bourbon whiskey,
the kind that makes your uncle tipsy.
That liberates his wandering tongue
for filthy limericks, boozily sung.
Give granny her pudding, steeped in rum.
so she can join the rowdy fun.
Mother has hit the sherry hard,
and now she's juggling greetings cards.
Mulled wine is poured for yuletide toasts,
quaffed by the gallon in drunken boasts.
By Boxing Day the cellar runs dry;
the household groans hungover sighs.
Tho winter months may be dark and dreary,
with spiritual help, they pass more cheery.
"The Day Before Christmas"
'Tis the day before Christmas,
and all round I rush, quite witless.
With crates of tinsel, strings of lights,
I deck the rooms in festive delight.
The meal I've planned in full detail
I now prepare with believer's zeal.
Veggies chopped, puddings now sorted,
bird marinading in mulled porter.
I clean the house from top to toe,
knowing my guests will chide me so.
Then rush to shops, the crowds to beat,
for leafy salads none will eat.
Christmas comes but once each year,
and makes me moan while others cheer.
"Yuleide Groans"
Now is the time for us to sing,
and wine and brandy forth to bring.
To load the Christmas table high,
with chocolate log and crisp mince pie.
Yet there's a "humbug!" for each "Hurrah!"
from folks who think it goes too far--
The miserable sorts who'd rather moan,
stroking cats and wishing they're alone.
Yet even for these poor lost souls,
the season warms their hearts like coals.
Thru gritted teeth, they grunt their cheer,
and drown their pique in Christmas beer.
The season's bright with prickly holly,
So we may as well pretend we're jolly.
I am not looking for critique on these, they are just jokes, but any thoughts on the meter would be appreciated.