Christmas Dinner

Kerry is howling,
Hopper is scowling.
Dad in the kitchen is a-grunting and a-growling.
Mother is swearing,
Little Jen is staring
at the chocolate stains on the dress that she’s wearing.
“Is the dinner ready?”
asks Uncle Eddie.
Outside it’s pouring,
Granny is snoring.
Turn off the telly ‘cos the telly is boring.

Hooper is irking
Kerry and smirking.
Dad’s telling everyone how hard he’s working.
Mother’s not forgetting
the servietting,
Dad spills his beer, Little Jen gets a wetting.
“Is the dinner ready?”
asks Uncle Eddie.
Granny is crying out
that real men are dying out.
Up against the cooker, Little Jen is drying out.

Kerry is spluttering,
sobbing and a-stuttering,
Hopper is muttering,
tension is fluttering.
Dad smiles proudly at the parsnips he’s buttering.
Mother switches pots about,
the dog just trots about.
Everyone wonders what Granny’s in knots about.
“Is the dinner ready?”
asks Uncle Eddie.
Outside it’s teeming,
Hopper is a-scheming,
Kerry’s eyes are streaming,
Granny is dreaming.
Up against the cooker, Little Jen is a-steaming.

Hopper smacks Kerry,
quite extraordinary.
Mother’s on the sherry and getting rather merry.
Dad carves the turkey,
the dog becomes perky.
Mother says the gravy is looking pretty murky.
“Is the dinner ready?”
asks Uncle Eddie.
Outside it’s raining,
the ducks are aquaplaning,
Little Jen’s complaining
her dress is staining.
Granny’s yelling out that the sprouts need straining.

Kerry is sobbin’,
Mother’s head’s throbbin’.
There’s a tap on the window from a washed-out robin.
Hopper is shouting,
Little Jen’s pouting,
Mother’s de-sprouting,
the dog’s de-grouting,
Granny thinks that she’s going on an outing.
“Is the dinner…?”
“Shut up!”
The ham gets cut up.
The rain keeps on drumming,
Dad is a-humming.
“All I asked was…”
“Yes, the bloody dinner’s coming!”

The kids wash all traces
of beer from their faces,
then get into places
and twang Dad’s braces.
Dinner is served on an arbitrary basis.
Kerry eats stroppily,
Hopper eats sloppily.
Eddie says the roasties aren’t cooked properly.
Dad throws the delph about,
Mother throws herself about.
Little Jen is moaning,
Granny is groaning,
Eddie’s going to use the roasties at a stoning.
The dog’s gone boning,
Mother’s telephoning.
“Oh Holy Night,” the angels are intoning.

Merry Christmas to anybody still out there...