A small selection of festive poems by Patrick Winstanley, our least productive and most obtuse author. Poems about the death of Santa Claus and the embarrassment of being a Christmas fairy are among the cleaner and more mainstream offerings. Again, this is a collection to be enjoyed by adults and teenagers, but kept firmly out of reach of children.
A decidedly tongue in cheek opening poem which will allow us to dismiss all the accusations of anti-Americanism as delusional paranoia.
Big bushy beard
An ill-judged suit
A sack of loot
Is Santa an
A funny Christmas poem about a Christmas fairy. Not a real Christmas fairy, but the sort of barbi-esque fairy manufactured in Taiwan and designed to sit atop your Christmas tree - although this fairy can talk, which is slightly unsettling.
I sit atop your Christmas tree,
All clad in pink, a real fairy.
The reason I appear to smirk,
The sprig of spruce stuck up my skirt.
We're straying into dangerous territory here, with a poem about the precosity of primary school children. O temora, O mores!
Our primary school's cancelled its nativity
Not because of multi-cultural sensitivity
It just can't find a pupil for the role of Mary
Who can play a virgin with any credibility
Most marriages can survive even major differences of opinion, but when the subject of the disagreement is style or taste, one's straying into dangerous territory.
I like my Christmas tree
With minimal decoration
Nothing gaudy or twee
Everything in moderation
My wife doesn't agree
For her, Christmas trees must dazzle
She's redecorated my tree
And given it a vajazzle
The first in a series of reworkings of old sayings and sooths, which takes a sideways glance at the Atkin's diet and comes close to qualifying as nonsense verse.
Christmas was coming
The goose was getting fat
So I put it on the Atkins diet
And now it's had a heart attack
Santa Claus is Dead is the follow up to Richard Dawkins' popular 2006 book The God Delusion.
A Christmas stocking
Emptied on the bed
A slender volume
Santa Claus is Dead
A coded message
Someone's telling me
My childhood is over
At only forty three.