Something's Brewing

Alarm sounds,

Heart pounds,

Break in!

Is it him?

Not alone...

He's in my home!


There he is,

By the fridge!

Slumped across the sandwiches.

In a slumber,

In my jumper,

Beard anest with chopped cucumber.


Sherry bottle by his side and

An empty box of spiced mince pies,

How could I make my friends believe

The sight I saw this Christmas Eve?


An eyelid opens,

He clears his throat,

Confused and queasy,

Misbuttons his coat.


I wonder…

Is he ready for this worldwide trip?

(With just the faintest waft of sick),

When these words slur from the old man's lips:

"Happy Christmas to all!"

and a "Ho Ho… hic!"

Ryan Cannell