When Carter’s party found the tomb
Of Pharaoh King Tutankhamun
They gazed upon the scene with some dismay
At cups and bowls strewn all about
Discarded clothes, some inside-out
In random piles of total disarray.
Add rotting fruit, some moldy bread,
Old board games found beneath the bed
And robbery was feared with utter gloom.
Though if he’d had a son, or two
He would have known, as parents do
That’s how most teenage boys will leave a room.
The day before The Night Before
The office turned into a store
With gifts galore from Santa’s stock
At lunchtime, right on one o’clock
A furtive glance across the room
As someone tried to wrap perfume
A figure hunched behind a fern
(the new girl had a lot to learn)
A friend will cough to help a mate
Disguise the sound of Sellotape
Shirley’s eyes revealed a glint
Each time she dropped another hint
In knowing just what not to tell
She kept the weak under her spell
And Andy, bless him, the poor dear
Just hoped he’d get it right this year
For Sue, who longed for something French
He’d bought a Jean-Paul Gautier wrench
Old Davey Wilcox saved a packet
He thought the whole idea a racket
His gifts were met with trepidation
Bought at his local petrol station
All dreams of wintry escapades
Were dashed by half-price wiper blades
Still, pity those who drew Pru’s name
The dowager who ran the game
And claimed the true meaning had gone
Then priced her gift on Amazon
Big Tony came to stuff his face
So ate at an alarming pace
Before they wrapped it up for Luke
Whose wife was just as bad a cook
Stollen, edam, Toblerone
Belgian nougat in a cone
Baby Jesus, Heaven sent
Now came via the continent
I’ve seen several scars happen
Over a slice of marzipan
Paper plates now put aside
Each festive tummy satisfied
Fiona stood to give a toast
But belched up Captain Morgan’s ghost
So Lenny then began to lift
And sift until he found his gift
50 ml of CK One
Would do quite nicely for his son
Aww, it’s lovely… that’s so sweet
As girls are wont to coo and tweet
With every present they unwrap
And gaze upon whilst in their lap
Which makes guys pause and think a bit:
This Santa thing’s made me a hit
That perfume seemed to animate her
I’ll say ‘hi’ at the laminator
So Merry Christmas one and all
Be pleased you got a gift at all
Enjoy that glass of Triple Sec
In your new purple turtle neck
The figure on the mountain knew
Far higher than the eagle flew
Beyond the sun and past the light
Were men who crossed the sky by night.
Soon after dusk their fires appeared
Then slowly, once a course was steered
Their caravan set out en masse
To make its empyreal pass.
Like beasts migrating on the plains
Like swarms that form to greet the rains
He found no word for the amount
Of travelers he sought to count.
A gallery would pass him by
Whose outlines seemed to signify
Proud emblems of a noble clan
Led by an even a greater man.
The bearing, always east to west
Suggested they were on a quest
Or maybe searching for a door
They’d passed through in a time before.
Each night the figure danced and prayed
Around the fire he had made
In hope his kin might see its glow
And teach him all he wished to know.
Then with the last beat from his breast
Great Spirit granted this request
And drew his outline in the sky
That men as he should never die
I gave my heart to you, my love
One February night
Invoking all that’s up above
I prayed you’d hold it tight.
And after we had made romance
(for that’s what I still call it)
You rose and gave a loving glance
Then made off with my wallet.
The next day you were seen at lunch
With someone I don’t know
But looking back, I have a hunch
It was with your new beau.
I hope the roasted Cornish hen
And champagne went down well
Before they came right up again
And cleared the whole hotel.
According to my Visa bill
You both then saw a play
A great night out is greater still
When you don’t have to pay.
Despite the slight cost overrun
At least I’m not alone
For in your haste to kiss and run
You left behind your phone.
And so, my love, for us it ends
As does your victory lap
For you’ve just texted all your friends
To say you’ve got the clap.
Should I love you?
Take hold of you?
Our first kiss would be your last
Blood pulsating
Seeping, sating
Taking more than I had asked.
This lifeless life out of the sun
Exiled from God’s own plan
Its beastly feast that’s fit for none
Was not how I began.
Still, you near me
Don’t you fear me?
I can suck you into hell
No
I’ll leave you
Let me grieve you
In that place where monsters dwell
Mr Ormsby At Large 