Moving Times

I can’t think of anything but moooooooving! at the moment.  Meanwhile, since it’s poetry day, here is a poem I wrote for Tomatoes about the spirit of Christmas:

Two Cheers for Christmas

Christmas is a time for panic!

swearing as you wrestle holly;

’tis the season to be manic:

snatch the last remaining trolley,

picking up forgotten food

extra vol-au-vents and chips,

texting puts you in a mood:

‘don’t 4get the spicy dips’;

checkout beeps like an alarm,

bagging unexpected item,

credit card in sweaty palm,

driving home in rage to spite ’em,

open door and scatter questions:

You recording Downton Abbey?

Did you put the kids to bed?

Have you called the nearest cabbie?

Who’s collecting Uncle Ted?

Did you email Aunty Doris?

Have you mended both the sheep?

Are you worried Uncle Maurice

will get drunk and fall asleep?

Christmas is a time for panic

dashing up the stairs to bed;

’tis the season to be manic,

lie awake and toss your head.

Christmas Day

oh, hurray

come all ye

bring me tea

stockings raided

presents traded

bells are ringing

children pinging

off the walls

deck the halls

blow balloons

polish spoons

turkey’s stuffed

feeling puffed

sprouts are peeled

sauce congealed

table’s laid

hearing Slade

bells are ringing

Noddy’s singing

here it is

come all ye


bring me brandy

come all ye








What is it all for?

Panic cease;

one word –


(c) Liz Gray, 2013

Kirk out