Christmas time is not all bad,
So many reasons to be not sad,
But there’s a subject I must raise
With Santa. Boy, it’s left me phased.

The weather, you will all have seen,
Has taken a turn that’s quite obscene.
The nights are cold, the mornings chilly,
And what I need concerns my willy.

Asking Santa will cause a shock, for what I need is [whispers] – a ‘c*ck sock’.

It makes me blush and I don’t know
How to phrase it, or to show
The correct decorum and respect,
Demanded by the ultimate prefect.

So perhaps I should just ask,
Tho’ I’ll have to complete the task,
For needles and some knitting wool,
A pattern and a wooden stool,
And then I’ll sit before the hearth
And knit myself a willy scarf.

It won’t take long, I’m only lickle,
I’m worried though that it might tickle,
But laughing is good or so I’m told
I’ll go for it before I’m old!!!


(Lo,TG is out of the office until she stops feeling faint. Probably some time in the New Year. Lo,TG Ed)