[Marion Shore]

I find Christmas depressing – you see,
they give gifts, and forget about me.
Dad says, "Son, let it go,
they're just human, you know."
Note to self: "Happy Birthday, JC!"

[Sylvia Fairley]

Why's Brian left France in such haste?
Can it be that he yearns for the taste
Of a rich Christmas pud,
Both fruity and good,
Or the brandy with which it is laced?

[basil ransome-davies]

The whole thing began in a stable –
At least that's the populist fable –
But like Thomas I doubt,
So I plan to opt out
And drink myself under the table.

[Martin Parker]

I feel it's one's duty to hinder
old men's midnight visits to kinder.
So serve the sod right
if my fire is alight
and the bugger is burnt to a cinder.

[basil ransome-davies]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

Brian, are you fleeing a French Christmas? What on earth is it like? I suppose instead of a turkey, each guest has an individual stuffed budgerigar.

Not budgies. Ortolans.

[John Whitworth]

En France there's a bird called the ortolan
But when a Noel it tries for to land,
There's invariably some
One to blast off its bum
Which leaves the pauvre bougre too sore to land.

I'm an accent adrift here.

[Brian Geffre]

The family is coming for Christmas
So I start making a big fuss
Turkey, stuffing and pie
presents, laughter but sigh
thirty people make my wife cuss.

[basil ransome-davies]

There's a bar on the island of Crete
Where at Yule the beat meet the elite,
But they say that the Isthmus
Of Corinth at Christmas
Can't be beaten for beating your meat.

[Jerome Betts]

Bah! Humbug! saId Scrooge, and was right.
Christmas mixes the sickly and trite
With marketing mush
And media gush
So my spirits refuse to ignite.

[basil ransome-davies]

I was hanging my stocking when Criminy!
Father Christmas emerged from the chiminey,
With the works of Descartes
And a hot little tart
Whom he'd met on a weekend in Rimini.