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My Christmas Tree
By
ARPoet
I’ve had a horrid Christmas,
Nothing has gone to plan,
It started Christmas Eve morning,
With a visit from a strange young man.
I was hoovering up pine needles,
When a knock came on the door.
That was when I fell over the old dog,
Asleep on the living room floor.
I picked myself up, and all flustered,
Stumbled into the chair.
Pain shot up my right leg,
Leaving me wanting to swear.
I managed to struggle to the door,
And opened it, on the chain.
There was a man with a clipboard,
Standing alone in the rain.
‘I’m the council safety officer,’
The man did say to me.
‘We’ve had a complaint from your neighbour,
About the size of your Christmas tree!’
Now I just looked all puzzled,
Thinking it some kind of a joke.
When through the crack in the doorway,
His identity card he did poke.
‘It contravenes one of the by-laws,
From seventeen hundred and two.
And it’s my official duty,
To serve this notice on you!’
It had got to be some sort of a wind-up.
Maybe, one of the fellows from work?
So I muttered some mild obscenity,
And slammed the door on the stupid berk.
About an hour or so latter it happened.
Another loud bang on the door.
This time he had brought a policeman,
Dressed in full riot gear, what's more.
‘It seems you’ve been foul and abusive,’
The policeman said calmly to me.
‘To this ‘ere council official,
Who has come to measure your tree!’
I looked for the hidden camera.
Thinking it was him off the TV.
Well, they would have to get up early,
To get one over on me.
So again I slammed the door shut,
But alas, what I didn’t know,
Was the fact that the council official, was
Holding the frame, and he didn’t let go.
My neighbours all heard the screaming,
And came out to get a better view.
At the writhing council officer,
Swearing and cursing, like you do.
‘Now open this door,’ cried the policeman.
Well, it was more of a direct command.
Now I wanted to open the door up,
But the thing was well and truly jammed.
There was only one option I could think of,
And I thought about fetching a saw.
So I shouted my intentions.
That’s when they smashed down the door.
That was when the dog woke up,
All gnashing and fierce were his teeth.
As the council man fell on the floor,
With my old dog right underneath.
The riot police all came running,
From their resting place in the van.
And after much pulling and screaming,
Managed to get the old dog off the council man.
Now I must say the they were really quite pleasant,
And found me a south facing cell.
They even gave me nice Christmas dinner,
And a found a home for my old dog as well.
So you see, that’s why I’m pleading not guilty,
And as my lawyer he seems to agree.
That none of this would have happened, If they,
Had not come to measure my Christmas Tree.
By
ARPoet
I’ve had a horrid Christmas,
Nothing has gone to plan,
It started Christmas Eve morning,
With a visit from a strange young man.
I was hoovering up pine needles,
When a knock came on the door.
That was when I fell over the old dog,
Asleep on the living room floor.
I picked myself up, and all flustered,
Stumbled into the chair.
Pain shot up my right leg,
Leaving me wanting to swear.
I managed to struggle to the door,
And opened it, on the chain.
There was a man with a clipboard,
Standing alone in the rain.
‘I’m the council safety officer,’
The man did say to me.
‘We’ve had a complaint from your neighbour,
About the size of your Christmas tree!’
Now I just looked all puzzled,
Thinking it some kind of a joke.
When through the crack in the doorway,
His identity card he did poke.
‘It contravenes one of the by-laws,
From seventeen hundred and two.
And it’s my official duty,
To serve this notice on you!’
It had got to be some sort of a wind-up.
Maybe, one of the fellows from work?
So I muttered some mild obscenity,
And slammed the door on the stupid berk.
About an hour or so latter it happened.
Another loud bang on the door.
This time he had brought a policeman,
Dressed in full riot gear, what's more.
‘It seems you’ve been foul and abusive,’
The policeman said calmly to me.
‘To this ‘ere council official,
Who has come to measure your tree!’
I looked for the hidden camera.
Thinking it was him off the TV.
Well, they would have to get up early,
To get one over on me.
So again I slammed the door shut,
But alas, what I didn’t know,
Was the fact that the council official, was
Holding the frame, and he didn’t let go.
My neighbours all heard the screaming,
And came out to get a better view.
At the writhing council officer,
Swearing and cursing, like you do.
‘Now open this door,’ cried the policeman.
Well, it was more of a direct command.
Now I wanted to open the door up,
But the thing was well and truly jammed.
There was only one option I could think of,
And I thought about fetching a saw.
So I shouted my intentions.
That’s when they smashed down the door.
That was when the dog woke up,
All gnashing and fierce were his teeth.
As the council man fell on the floor,
With my old dog right underneath.
The riot police all came running,
From their resting place in the van.
And after much pulling and screaming,
Managed to get the old dog off the council man.
Now I must say the they were really quite pleasant,
And found me a south facing cell.
They even gave me nice Christmas dinner,
And a found a home for my old dog as well.
So you see, that’s why I’m pleading not guilty,
And as my lawyer he seems to agree.
That none of this would have happened, If they,
Had not come to measure my Christmas Tree.
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