Clement Clarke Moore (1822)
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the committee.
Thee change was being counted from the weekly cake kitty.
The stocking were all hung from the monthly craft club.
And on the allotment, was planted a shrub.
The women were all nestled as Jerusalem sang out.
Emma announced the agenda with no worry or doubt.
It was Thursday already and the AGM planned.
We settled our brains as the year was so grand.
In the warm meeting hall there arose such a clatter.
The women so friendly and that’s what should matter.
Looking in through the window the year was a flash.
We listened to Karen about who spent the cash.
The members of new ladies continues to grow.
As old entertain new by performing a show.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear.
But Flora and Fauna, Who love Martinmere.
With a little old knotter so lively and slick.
Barry taught us a reef knot ever so quick.
More rapid than eagles Magic Pete came.
January was magical giving Emma much fame.
Now Nancy, now Deb, now Jo and Sue.
On Pauline on Elisabeth contact these few.
To the top of the roomwe bagged for Mad Dog.
It was busy for us but well worth the slog.
As April approached us we took part in Tai Chi.
Daphne who taught us had a soft spot for Nancy.
So up to the house top India came into view.
With Sari’s, metal bangles and food tasting too.
And then in a twinkling came a flash of bright green.
Hearts for our climate keep Great Britain clean.
As I drew in my head and was turning around.
Back in time I had gone and a Tudor wife found.
She was dress’d all in rattan from her head to her foot.
She cook’d on a fire tarnis’d with ashes and soot.
A bundle of thread was flying in the pack,
Sewing over in Leyland and they even came back.
Our eyes – how they twinkl’d when the life mag was posted.
Cup of coffee, a biscuit on our settee we’re bolted.
Their droll little mouth wanted Ed wina Curry.
An annual selfie but she’d gone in a hurry.
The stump of a log they sweat and bare teeth.
They dig and plant as seeds germinate beneath.
They have a broad face as the dish fills with crops.
The weather was kind and their fruit never stops.
He was chubby and plump a right jolly old Ted.
We tried crown green bowling but got easily led.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head.
No bowling ball landed within the flower bed.
We spoke not a word and went straight to our work.
Selling cakes large and small through positive teamwork.
And laying a finger on the powerpoint created.
The year through happy photos was clearly stated.
She sprung to her apron and to the team gave a smile.
Being a member of the Scarlets is a positive lifestyle.
But, Emma exclaimed as she crotch’d out of sight.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
by Tina
Our Second poem by Emma
Twas the night after Christmas
All through the house
Nothing was stirring
Not even a mouse.
They couldn’t you see.
They were stuck where they sat
They’d spent so much time eating
They were feeling so fat.
They’d tucked into turkey and stuffing and sprouts.
They’d had the pudding and trifle and mince pies with no doubts
They’d eaten the cheddar and gouda and brie.
They’d feasted and snacked, no food left to see.
They had searched and emptied
The stockings and socks
They had polished off the chocolate from every selection box.
To say nothing of the gin and port and the wine.
It would have been rude not to, it’s civilised when you dine.
So the night after Christmas as you’re sat in the quiet
It’s perhaps the time to consider a diet
Emma Gillinger