Christmas time is Summer time in New Zealand. This poem is for those who find Christmas more than they can handle at times.
Aunties arguing, with apprehension
And animated voices, over amazing accusations.
Babies bellowing as they’re bounced and burped
On the bony knees of beery-breathed strangers.
Christmas cake crumbling with currants catapaulting
As it’s carefully cut into cute little cubes.
Dreadful decorations dangling and drooping
Dangerously down from above the doorway.
Embarrassing explosion and electricity eliminated
As entangled extension cord effusively erupts.
Four-footed friends, fat and flea ridden,
Flop with fatigue on favourite furniture.
Grandma and Grandad groaning, not grinning,
As growing grandchildren gallop through the garden.
Harrassed husband hollers and hoots
As he helps himself to half-cooked ham.
Interesting ideas intermingle with ice-cream
As they slide invisibly into the night.
Juniors in jandals and jaded jeans
Joke about jellybeans and jiggly jelly.
Kiwi kids karate and kick around the kitchen
Keen to kidnap the kiwifruit kebabs.
Luminous lights lit up like lollipops
Leaning lopsidedly on low-hung rooves.
Magnificent Mums mildly maintaining
Marginal manners amongst the mob.
Ninety year old Nana from a nearby nursing home
Nods and nudges at her nephew’s new nose ring.
Obstreperous oldies offering objectionable opinions
As they observe the others obliterate the food.
Peculiar presents, paid for by plastic card,
In patterned paper perched under the tree.
Quarrels and quibbles and all in a quandary
Over the questionable quality of roasted quail.
Raucous relatives rant and rave
As they remember the recipe for rabbit pie.
Silvery stars stuck in the branches
Saluting strangers in this stupid season.
Teenagers texting to twenty-two friends
They haven’t talked to for twenty-four hours.
Unusual utterances from under-the-weather uncles
As they watch us unwrap unwanted presents.
Vintage vacuum cleaner vibrates like a volcano
As its invisible victims virtually vanish.
Wine and whisky washed down willingly
While wishful wives wait under the wreath.
Exaggerated excitement and extra exuberance
As extroverted exhibitionists watch x-rated movies.
Yesterday’s youths in yellow yachtie caps
Yapping together telling yuletide tales.
ZZZZZZZ! They’re dozing
After an over zealous Krizmas Day.
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