A little light relief in these very short days
From an anonymous contributor
December 2020
All I want for Christmas is… an injection.
Astra Zeneca my selection.
Covid, tis a curse, but would be worse,
If I had asked God for my protection.
There’s much in Covid to fear,
Though I’ll not shed a tear,
But lockdown’s a fright. I’m in need of a pint,
Good Boris, please put me in the right tier.
I’ll try to be diplomatic,
Though I couldn’t be more emphatic.
You may feel your best, but please get a test.
The chances are you are asymptomatic!
We travelled far this Christmas break,
To Granny our gifts to take.
We hugged and kissed, now she will be missed.
In January we’ll meet, for her wake.
We’ve twenty five voices in our chorus.
Only one cough and sniffle between us.
We sang out loud to please the crowd.
Now twenty four have got the virus.
I’m all for a jab in the arm,
to restore a semblance of calm.
Of our leaders I’m wary
(Some are really quite scary).
‘Cos pricks like that can do more harm!
Our Vicar caught Covid the other day.
For him, we knelt down to pray.
We cling to the Bible in case it’s a libel
that the grim reaper has the last say.
Trump treats his virus with bleach.
So he said in a White House speech.
He has some to spare after fixing his hair.
Now the other morons he’ll teach.