Hello again! Twelve years later...
After a somewhat long gap since the last post in 2013 (I forgot I had the blog!!), I reclaimed Random Verse, and hopefully will remember to post more content, and not leave such long gaps between them (though I suspect it will happen again).
Anyhow, here's something I threw together one evening in December 2023, fresh after reading about the mud slinging antics between the Labour and Conservative parties here in the UK, and it uses the ongoing story at the time about the migrant issue as a backdrop. Enjoy!
'Twas Xmas Eve and Santa Claus was stuck in Northern France,
The reindeer seemed all out of sorts, the presents thrown askance,
The sleigh hit a cathedral spire, and Santa lost control,
He landed thirteen miles too short, as Dover was his goal.
The elves collected up the gifts and put them in the sack,
While Santa spoke to a shifty bloke, eating croissant and cognac.
"Fear not, for I have just secured, our passage cross the waves,
So load the sack into the craft, and board, my elvish braves!"
The sack, the elves, and Santa Claus set off upon the boat,
The Channel lapping up the sides, their dinghy just afloat,
Across the sea lanes they did sail, avoiding French gunboats,
The elves a little nonplussed at old Santa’s anecdotes.
As they neared the British coast, they heard "Ahoy ahoy!
Where d’you think you're going with this pseudo-Xmas ploy?"
A military frigate came closer into view,
Lit up like a Xmas tree and painted Tory blue.
Rishi Sunak, handmade suit, his coiffeured hair aglow,
There upon the prow he snarled, within the searchlight's glow.
"I'm here to stop all immigrants, so take a final gander,
Your last look at the British coast, you're heading to Rwanda!"
Santa squinted in surprise within the searchlight’s glare,
This was a complication of which he was unaware.
"I'm Santa Claus, I'm here each year, I'm no repeat offender,
Bringing gifts to boys and girls (and every other gender).
I bring the hope of peace and joy to billions around,
But nowhere else did I receive this welcome I have found."
"Can it, gramps, I'm not impressed", said Sunak, with delight,
"All of you illegal souls will soon be on a flight.
We'll fly you to Kigali, where they have a special camp,
Escort you to the door, we'll even drive you up the ramp.
Once inside, we lock the gate, a welcome we've prepared,
Metal bars for walls and doors, so it is fully aired."
Suddenly, there was a bang, a thunderous explosion,
Inside the frigate's wheelhouse, a riotous commotion.
Sunak raged, "what is this noise, causing all this drama?"
Cleverly screamed back, "we're being boarded by Keir Starmer!"
Labour's front-bench team climbed aboard the Tory frigate,
Determined to stop Sunak, and his Santa-hating bigots.
The Shadow Cabinet took arms against their Tory foe,
Sunak mocked Keir Starmer, yelling, "Come and have a go!"
Hunt and Reeves were fighting, sharpened pencils in each hand,
Cooper kicking Cleverly below the gastric band,
Lammy running round the ship, in search of peace accords,
Unable to find Cameron, who was hiding in the Lords.
And while the parties battled on, old Santa slipped away,
Made it to the Dover coast and hired an Uber sleigh.
All the presents despatched safe, he'd run his British beat,
And sent a massive sack of coal to 10 Downing Street.
Merry Christmas!
