By Brian Phillips, living with PH
Christmas is coming,
And the Goose is on a diet,
The Turkeys ceased to gobble
And the pigs think they might try it.
Anything to shed some pounds,
Get stringy, tough and lean.
Avoid the festive abattoir,
The butcher and his team.
Decline the Christmas Table,
With its crackers and its hat,
And “Why the chicken crossed the Road?”
And others things like that.
It might be cold and snowy,
In the fields outside the house,
But better there than roasting tray,
And with hot oil doused.
So when you slip into your place,
While Christmas Candle glows,
Your bird upon its platter,
Headless, cocks his parsons nose.
So next year, when its Christmas,
And the weather starts to freeze,
Think kindly on our feather friends,
And dine on Bread and Cheese!
