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Crippled by the credit crunch, Santa was quite frantic
Sweltering in his fur-trimmed clothes, in the North
Atlantic.
Climate change needs different gear — shirts and
shorts and waders.
Santa said, ‘I’ve had enough, next year it’s Barbados!’
Shirley Curran
On the last Noel, when the white snow fell,
All snowmen were banned in a non-racist stand.
They booted right out the poor Brussels sprout
In case it should pique the small Ukip clique.
On the last Noel, the mistletoe’s knell
Was a conscious measure to end sexual pressure.
By hanging a stocking, it’s the limbless we’re mocking.
Holly must die out lest it has someone’s eye out.
On the last Noel, they sounded no bells
’Cause complaints flooded in on the unsocial din.
With councils convinced all non-Christians hate tinsel
And baubles and glare, the firs were left bare.
On the last Noel, the ‘Ho ho ho’ yell
Upset the depressed, so St Nick’s been suppressed.
Why did they advise against puddings, mince pies
And large yule log slices? The obesity crisis!
Celeste Francis
The last Noel was cancelled as planned
When the pine and the fir trade were finally banned,
And the Santa Claus scandal was legally stiffed
(Young kids in the bedroom, old man with a gift).
The crackers were packed up (a hazardous bang),
With holly, whose berries have a poisonous tang.
The fairy on the tree, such a slur on the gay,
And easy-swallow baubles were all hid away.
The Yule log was lit by an LED light,
And alcohol-free were the wassails by night.
Innuendos in panto were rightly got rid,
Though the kids didn’t get them all (oh yes, they did).
The pudding was pulled off the menu, to cease
The growth of the morbidly, grossly obese,
And Noel was abolished as a very bad thing,
And this is the last Christmas carol we’ll sing.
Bill Greenwell
Away on a website where miracles dwell,
A CGI choir is singing Noel.
The angels are programmed for sheer blessedness,
And there to present them are Brucie and Tess.
Their sponsors are many, from Pepsi to Ford,
All willing to further the work of the Lord.
Their motives are holy, their purpose divine,
With links to their products to purchase online.
Celebrity Noel is part of the theme,
A chance for the viewer to ogle and dream
As guests you have worshipped appear by the score
In clips they so thoughtfully taped months before.
The peak of the podcast, the Bethlehem Star,
Means one lucky viewer will win a new car.
Just dial up this number or send us a text,
And enjoy this Noel, as there won’t be a next.
Basil Ransome-Davies
The last Noel the angels did sing
when all schools banned the Nativity play,
and the only bells that were heard to ring
were the tills at the sales on Christmas Day.
The angels still sing for the souls of men,
the urban gangs and the cop on the beat,
the angels were singing in Croxteth then,
as another young lad was shot in the street.
The angels still sing in Afghanistan,
in Bethlehem and Bangalore,
they sing for our troops and the Taleban
and weep for the madness of men and war.
The last Noel the angels sing
as shoppers stampede a bargain store,
and angels weep as the tills still ring
while one of the staff lies dead on the floor.
Tim Raikes
The last Noel, the atheists say
Was the day Richard Dawkins explained it away.
He explained it away with a logical leap
And with scholarly rigour both thorough and deep.
No hell, No hell, No hell, No hell,
Which for poor Richard Dawkins is just as well.
The last Noel, the Council did say
Was the day Health and Safety banned Santa Claus’ sleigh.
They proceeded to ban the Nativity Play,
And they’re calling it now Isaac Newton’s Birthday.
No sleigh; no play; no Christmas Day.
(We all worship Mammon now, anyway)
The last Noel’s fast approaching, they say —
And you won’t hear Noddy Holder come Judgment Day.
David Silverman
No. 2578: Show me the boy…
According to John Aubrey’s Brief Lives, as a boy, the butcher’s son Shakespeare ‘exercised his father’s trade, but when he killed a calf he would do it in high style, and make a speech’. You are invited to submit your version of this speech (16 lines maximum). Entries to ‘Competition 2578’ by 8 January or email lucy@spectator.co.uk.
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