My Christmas Present. Poem by Mike Berriman

Tinsel, lights and tree of green
This Christmas sucks or so it seems
I see the gifts, spread under tree
I've checked them all, there's none for me.

I campaigned early, some months ago
I had it made, well I thought so
I asked dear Santa for a set of sticks
To play with my mates, to beat those Dicks.

Two days to go, no clubs in house
Come on Santa why be a louse
Why bother with that stuff on love
If he were here he'd deserve a shove.

It's Christmas morn and Santa's been
I see my present a rowing machine
My wife is adamant, this is what you need
Look out Santa, I'll get you, take heed.

MB 14/12/2009.