A Prick from a Christmas Tree

Underneath the Christmas tree
Santa left a man for me.
“Oh Dahling”, shouted I with glee,
“We’ll be as happy as can be.”

The first weeks were a mist of bliss,
Each day ended with a kiss.
But soon that kiss became a hiss
And I knew something was amiss.

He did not like my style of hair.
He did not like my underwear.
He said my face was far from fair.
And soon, for him, I did not care.

He pawed and mauled my bends and curves
And said, “Don’t eat so much hors d’oeuvres”.
So very soon I did observe
That he was getting on my nerves.

He would not let me stay at home
When I’d wish to be alone.
He’d bore me with his dulcet tones,
With one word sounding like a tome.

I could not look him in the face.
I did not want him in my place.
I wanted back my personal space.
Return the chump, bring back the chase.

Next Christmas came and I saw red,
For I knew I’d been misled.
So once I had my fill in bed,
I put a bullet through his head!

Twinkle Twinkle I’m a star!

Dear Santa let me seal
A big fat cheque and three-book deal.
The brightest stars shine most light
When they put the world to write!

*Dorothy Darker wishes you all a decadent Christmas and shall return in the New Year!

Joint of the day!

At the Christmas table I sit and wait
For someone to thrill my dinner plate.
But though I moan, I am aware
Good meat tastes best when it is rare!

Santa’s Stingy Sack!

For this year’s sumptuous yuletide feast
I crave a brave and seasoned beast.
But though I’m blessed with beauty and wit,
Santa remains a miserable git!

Dream a little dream…

Aidan Quinn to swap his wife,
Could be the making of my life.
Or lying naked in the sack,
Some blue-eyed boy who’d ring me back!

Somewhere else!

The music hurtling through my head,
I think I’d rather be in bed -
Or in my bathroom cleaning mould -
Does this mean I’m getting old?

The money is resting on my account

The race is on to shop and buy,
But I’m too tired to traipse and try.
To splash my cash, I think instead,
That I shall spend the day in bed!

Killing Time!

I twitch and itch and cannot rest,
I know that I’m not at my best.
What shall I diagnose for me?
A chronic case of plain ennui!

Have an ice day!

Seeing as this winter blue,
Has got my feelings in a stew.
The reason for my smiling lack,
Could be that my poor face might crack!

Day Breaking!

When another day is spent,
We pine and ponder where it went.
Yet when the morning lets a roar,
We face another day once more!