Elf On The Shelf – A Christmas Verse

Now I’m not one to complain at such a festive time of year:

I wouldn’t want to spoil December’s fun and festive cheer.

But now and then, please spare a thought for one poor tired elf

Who’s feeling overworked and rather sorry for himself.

 

I once made toys in Santa’s state-of-the-art factory:

Where we elves were master craftsmen: the best that there could be.

I spent hours making train sets and horses out of wood:

And the pay and the conditions were really very good.

But few kids now want wooden train sets, or a rocking horse:

And so I signed myself up for an Elf Outplacement Course.

 

There were a few jobs out there that I thought that I could do

Which would take me from the factory and on to pastures new.

I could help on the sleigh team, but I’m not a sleigh mechanic

And the thought of flying always did put me in quite a panic.

Helping in a grotto seemed one way to earn my pay:

But at my age, it gets tricky to be on your feet all day.

And then I found the perfect job (or at the time it seemed)

As a member of an elite squad – the Elf Surveillance Team.

 

I joined up, and straight away I signed up for my shelf –

The perfect job, I figured, for an ageing, footsore elf.

All I’d have to do was sit up on the shelf – or so I thought –

Watch the children playing nicely, and then write the odd report.

So I put on my red suit and promptly jumped into the post

All ready to be unwrapped by a festive family host.

The adults were delighted and the children shrieked with glee

How little did I know then what would be in store for me!

 

Since then I’ve been woken up at some ungodly hour

To make snowballs out of water and half a tonne of flour

To decorate the tree with streamers and old toilet rolls

And write “HO HO HO!” in icing sugar round the cereal bowls

I’ve driven plastic cars around with dinosaurs inside

Been forced into a marriage with a Barbie as my bride

(we’re divorcing)

I’ve scattered all the Cheerios around the kitchen floor;

I’ve hung upside down for hours from the top of the front door;

They’ve even got me buying bedding! I’m really quite perplexed:

I dare say they’ll be asking for a brand-new sofa next.

 

Now I’m flat broke and exhausted, and waiting for the day

Where someone comes to rescue me and smuggle me away

I did find a firework, which I hid up my sleeve

So I can send a distress signal sometime on Christmas Eve.

Perhaps Santa will hear me, and hurry to my call –

For getting out of here would be the finest Christmas gift of all.

I’ll go back to the North Pole, just grateful I’m alive

And exchange my resignation for a nice P45.

The Christmas Dragon

A twist on an old favourite.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, a long time ago,

Everywhere in the country was covered in snow.

As the snow fell around, not a sound could be heard,

Not a squeak of a mouse or a chirp of a bird.

 

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care

In the hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there,

The fires were all out, for if you want treats,

It’s best to make sure Santa won’t singe his feet.

 

Our household had long since retired to their beds,

And pulled all their blankets up over their heads,

But I lay awake, for I so wished to see

A vision of Santa, with presents for me.

 

The cold nighttime passed, and I must have dozed off.

I might have heard something, a sneeze or a cough,

And a jingling too, from way up on the roof,

And a tapping that might be a small reindeer’s hoof.

 

But it wasn’t a noise that woke me with a shock,

But a feeling of heat coming up from my socks.

I sat up and saw, curled up right by my toes,

A tiny green dragon, with smoke in his nose.

 

He startled awake, and he gave a slight grin,

As he blew out a smoke ring and lifted his chin.

Do dragons bring presents? I thought to myself.

I thought it was Santa – or maybe an elf?

 

He took a small stretch, and he jumped off the bed,

And seemed to say with an incline of his head

That the stockings were filled: Santa’s work was all done.

But now Santa’s was ended, his own had begun.

 

Then quietly into the kitchen he stole

And turned a plum pudding from out of a bowl

He gave a slight snort and a jolly laugh too,

And he covered the pudding in flames of bright blue.

 

Then he crept to the fireplace, took careful aim,

And lit up the logs with a bright yellow flame.

Then he unfurled his wings, waved a cheery adieu,

And with a great WHOOSH! Up the chimney he flew.

 

And now I knew why, on a cold Christmas morn,

Our houses (and puddings) are toasty and warm.

So remember to give Christmas dragons a greeting,

Even if, nowadays, you might have central heating.

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Black Friday

Here’s one of my verses I wrote in response to ‘Black Friday’ last year – I think it still applies..

Feral Brioche

Every year I swear blind that I’m going to be more ethical in my Christmas shopping, and most years I end up just swearing – not just at the consumer madness of Black Fridays, Cyber Mondays and the like, but at my total inability to make anything that doesn’t turn into a complete disaster. Hence this festive verse…

I’m going to have a really right-on Christmas this year.

The news is full of pictures of the mobs that flood the stores

To get their Christmas presents slightly cheaper than before

They push and shove and jostle and they thump the other shoppers

They might commit a murder that’s unnoticed by the coppers

Cause a bit of bloodshed’s worth it for a cheap computer game

The kids all want that console, and it’s not a time for shame

The people don’t know what to do, should they join in or sneer?

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Black Friday

Every year I swear blind that I’m going to be more ethical in my Christmas shopping, and most years I end up just swearing – not just at the consumer madness of Black Fridays, Cyber Mondays and the like, but at my inability to make anything that doesn’t turn into a complete disaster. Hence this festive verse…

I’m going to have a really right-on Christmas this year.

The news is full of pictures of the mobs that flood the stores

To get their Christmas presents slightly cheaper than before

They push and shove and jostle and they thump the other shoppers

They might commit a murder that’s unnoticed by the coppers

Cause a bit of bloodshed’s worth it for a cheap computer game

The kids all want that console, and it’s not a time for shame

The people don’t know what to do, should they join in or sneer?

But I’m going to have a really right-on Christmas this year.

I’ve got it all thought out. I’m going to shun the plastic tat

The lights that clog up landfill and the bows that choke the cat

The things we can’t recycle that just get chucked in the bin

This time I’ll be more meaningful to see the new year in.

I’ll support the local traders selling pricey crochet gloves

They don’t sell a great deal more than that, but make them all with love

I’ll make some homemade shortbread, though my oven’s on the blink

(and the smoke last time I tried to make some gave off quite a stink)

With jars of homemade marmalade, I’m sure to raise a smile

(Especially if they’re packaged in a homemade eco style)

The kids don’t need more plastic toys that get lost on the shelf –

Instead, I’ll make them outfits that I’ve sewn by hand myself.

I’ll give charity certificates to friends both far and near –

Cause I’m going to have a really right-on Christmas this year.

There is just one slight problem with my perfect, right-on view –

I should plan this in July, but now December’s halfway through

I’m not much cop at baking, and can’t sew to save my skin

I’m not sure crap homemade presents would appeal to all my kin

I’d need a second mortgage to buy artisanal craft

And I’m not sure Great-Aunt Elsie really wants a fair-trade raft

I’m running out of options, and it’s giving me the fear –

But I really want to have a right-on Christmas this year.

And so I give a heavy sigh and head off to the shops

To spend several joyless hours to the sound of festive pop

(‘It’s CHRIIIIIST-MAAAAAASSSS!’)

And spend money I don’t really have on gifts they might not like

My nephew gets a sweater when he’d much prefer a bike

The shopping bags are heavy and my conscience prickles too

I’ve turned into a consumer, and I don’t know what to do.

A tawdry commercial Christmas seems devoid of any cheer

And I really wanted to have a right-on Christmas this year.

So let’s bring out the brown paper and the berries from the yard

The charity donations on the back of Christmas cards

There might just be a middle way, for when I’m short on time

I’m crap at all the homemade stuff, but can compose this rhyme

A very merry Christmas to friends both far and near

I hope you have a lovely, moderately right-on Christmas this year.