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Red Bauble
Academic | Posted 13.12.2016

Christmas Poems

Every month at QM, the English Department treats the School to a ‘poem of the month’. This month, in a bumper Christmas edition, there were three poems. What’s more, these poems were penned by Year III students. The girls were inspired by ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ by Clement Clarke Moore, and ‘Christmas’ by John Betjeman, paying particular attention to rhythm and rhyme…

’Twas the Night After Christmas

Twas the night after Christmas … all are hungover,
All feeling full, from Thurso to Dover,
But some still have room for that one little treat,
The last orange cream from the Quality Street.

The Council won’t empty our stuffed and crammed bins,
Full of wrapping and turkey, smashed bottles of gin.
The sales have started – decorations and more!
So let us all rush to the M&S store.

The cousins have left now, the adults can breathe,
Aunties and uncles join the slow M1 heave,
Now comes washing up!  It’s hated worldwide,
Oh, I can’t be bothered, let’s put it aside.

Payday cheques are long gone, so it’s now back to work,
The one place where our Christmas cheer doesn’t lurk,
But for some it’s a new start – off to the gym,
To burn off some excess, and that new, extra chin.

The lights and the tinsel are all taken down,
It’s happening everywhere, all over town.
Down comes the ivy, the green holly boughs,
Santa has left us, he’s back in bed now.

Christmas is gone, that’s it for this year,
And now we look forward to all next year’s cheer.

By Nicole Atkinson


An Unforgettable Night (Christmas in Wartime)

I sit by the window and watch the flakes fall,
Stare at the trees swinging, so proud and tall,
People bound around, bearing gifts and warm drinks,
Mince pies are shared, and glasses are clinked.

Children jump with excitement, as thrilled as can be,
Lights and decorations twinkle loudly on the tree.
Crackers are pulled; the turkey begins to roast,
Soon “Let us eat!” is announced by the host.

Everyone tucks in – there’s gravy galore!
But I can’t be happy.  My dad is at war.
What is he doing?  Will I see him again?
That’s my only wish – I say a quick prayer and “Amen”.

The evening drones on; I smile through gritted teeth.
My mind has switched off as I stare at the wreath.
People open their gifts, overcome with such joy;
I couldn’t care less – I don’t want a new toy.

Then suddenly – as the day draws to a close,
The door opens slowly – I see familiar toes!
Is it him?  Could it be?  It might be my dad!
I leap up with excitement, I’m no longer sad!

I run up to him, and I hug him so tight!
It’s the best Christmas ever – an unforgettable night!

By Xanthe De Wesselow


The Day Before Christmas

The day before Christmas is my favourite day,
When all through your head rush the thoughts of his sleigh,
I can’t wait to hear the loud sound of hoof,
When Rudolf and friends all land on my roof!

The tree has gone up – all decorated now,
But my mind is still wondering – who, what, when, how?
Who was that baby so innocent and small,
Who we now believe is God, King of all?

What was he doing in that meek, wooden manger,
When he was the King? – He should not be in danger.
When did he realise he was man and God’s son?
And did he have friends and supporters, or none?

How did it start?  How does it end?
Who knows?  But I vow that I’ll be his friend.

By Helena Mangles