A Very Merry Christmas
A flight of Christmas limericks
Drinking a wine on an empty belly,
In waft the fumes of the pork belly,
I sway into the tree,
Fall into a pile of debris,
Thank God they’re all watching telly.
After a faint knock at the door,
Like soldiers marching off to war,
They make their way in,
With beer, wine and gin,
We eat until we cannot eat anymore,
Time to pass around the presents,
I shake for a clue of the contents,
Are they socks,
Or maybe some jocks,
The most important of all sacraments.
I stumble around in my new loafers,
The family passed out on both sofas,
Nibbling at the remaining ham,
It contracts my diaphragm,
I spew up all over the leftovers.
That brings an end to a merry Christmas,
Where drinking was the only thing religious,
I topple into bed,
With a heavy head,
Tomorrow I will ask forgiveness.
