[R. S. Gwynn]

Let's all post them here.

[Jim Hayes]

Can I post one meself?

IRISH CHRISTMAS NIGHT IN THE WORKHOUSE

It was Christmas night in the workhouse
And the paupers was having their dinners.
And the preacher he called from the top of the hall--
"Get down on your knees, you sinners.

And them poor paupers knelt in that cheerless room
On their benches hard and wooden.
And the preacher called in a voice of doom--
"Bring on the Christmas puddin."

"Put down your heads," says he with a leer,
"Cause I want you all to think
Of the sins of the flesh that has brung us here,
Tobacco and women and drink."

"And I'm telling youse now and I'm telling youse good.
" And his voice took a dangerous edge.
"No one gets to ate the puddin
Till everyone takes the pledge."

And a chill of doom ran round the room.
You could cut the air with a knife
As each man searched in the depths of his soul
For the sins of his wasted life.

And then them paupers rose as one
And said as bold as brass.
"You can keep your Christmas puddin and stick it ....

[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited December 22, 2008).]

[Anne Bryant-Hamon]

**Apologies for the rush job but I've a zillion things to do before leaving town in the morning.... here's my best quick shot:


I want an Irish creme for Christmas
covering my lawn
Please fill my fairy rainbow wish list
but please, no carrion!

I bet the Irish Santa Clause
wears clover-covered boots
with lucky underwear and bras
and charming, magic suits.

[R. S. Gwynn]

A Child's Christmas in Eire

"Jim, tell me true," asked Mr. Dooley, "how's the femly farin'?
Was old Saint Nick up to the trick? Are those new shoes you're wearin'?

"We got a pair that we can share amongst us seven brothers.
There wasn't more because we're poor and couldn't get no others.
And little Meg, who's got one leg, she got a wooden clog.
Mum cooked a bit so down we sit and eats O'Malley's dog.
And dear old Dad, I guess he had too many at the pub.
He fell and froze and lost five toes but gets ‘round on ‘is nub.
So all in all I guess you'd call it Hayes-style Christmas cheer."

"I'm glad to know. It all sounds so much better than last year!"

[Jim Hayes]

These are great guys, in the spirit of the occasion I'm announcing grand prizes for the two best postings.

Ist prize is one week in Kilkenny Ireland
2nd prize is two weeks in Kilkenny.

So give it your best shot folks.

[Anne Bryant-Hamon]

Jim,

Bet I can guess what 3rd prize would be

Anne

[Philip Quinlan]

Come friendly vets and fall on Cork
For God's sake divn't eat the pork
Dem be-asts have got a pisin in
Dey got from atin' di-ox-in

Not dangerous (!) but "to be sure"
(De rasher's ill's worse than its cure)
Be sure t'heave de whole lot out
'Tis nutt'n te get scared about

Dere may be pork fa-mine dis year
But beef's not short so have no fear
Be tankful for the good ould spud
Grown not in "black butter" but mud

Dis Christmas let the pig lie fallow
And orther takeaway from Mallow

(By my abacus that would be 10 weeks in Kilkenny)



[This message has been edited by Philip Quinlan (edited December 20, 2008).]

[Jim Hayes]

The Hayes's Christmas Guest

We had a turkey for Christmas,
and plonking him in a chair
we fed him cabbage and corn beef--
the best of Christmas fare.

We gave him fifteen courses
as much as we could cook.
We treated the turkey as royalty
like he was King Farouk.

We had Christmas crackers and streamers
to celebrate the Yule,
and giving the turkey a fine cigar
he sat like a big, fat fool.

We'd a vintage port to finish
and the turkey burped "Be Jayses,
there's never been a Christmas like
the one ye'd have with Hayses".

We toasted each other, we toasted our mother,
the turkey and R.S.Gwynn,
and laughed so much we all agreed
to have them back agin.

And so it was, flat on its back,
replete with Christmas lovin'
the turkey being fully anaesthetized
we popped it in the oven.


Yes Anne, if you're really bad you get to live here permanently.

I had a mother from Mallow Philip, so you're leading the pack and seem like you'd qualify for residence.

Jim



[This message has been edited by Jim Hayes (edited December 22, 2008).]

[Philip Quinlan]

Originally posted by Jim Hayes:
I had a mother from Mallow Philip,
[/b]

Just the one Jim?

I once passed through Mallow. It's a wonderful place for just passing through. I say this only to give someone a chance to quote Oscar Wilde...



Philip

[David Rosenthal]

I can't do an Irish Christmas poem, but would a Limerick about Jesus count?


There once was a baby named Jesus,
who some say was sent to release us
from sinning and blame,
while some use his name
to curse us and kill us and fleece us.


David R.


[This message has been edited by David Rosenthal (edited December 21, 2008).]