Girl With One Track Mind (Sexhunters)
I Fell in Love on the Northern Line
Saturday Night at the J H Tavern
Being Santa
'Here's his costume but you'll need boots
'because last year kids complained,
that 'Santa doesn't wear brown shoes
'and looked like the caretaker, Mr Payne.'
'and watch yer beard's stuck on right,
'the 'tache looks loose over yer lip,
'if it comes off it'll give 'em a fright,
'the kids comin' to see Father Christmas.'
then it starts: the queue to my grotto,
a river of hope flows round the school hall,
'What's your name?' Have you been good?',
some are too nervous to answer at all,
Ben, Jonathan, Sidney and Keith,
Bea, Susannah, Janki and Faith,
Yan, Anthony, Frankie and Leif,
Hope, Rosemary, Phoebe and Ralph,
one and all seek reassurance,
that Santa won't let them down,
'cause they cannot trust their parents,
to transport them to Christmas heaven.
'I wanna phone,' a little girl pleads,
'You're not allowed,' her big sister says,
'Maybe when you're older,' I intercede,
as Father Christmas, and she smiles.
hundreds of children want to see me,
Santa has such vast allure,
it's baking hot in the grotto,
can I cope? I'm not sure,
still they bring a torrent of lists,
for video games and items in pink,
it doesn't matter if He really exists,
provided they believe, methinks,
the final child in is my darling daughter,
I see her smiling quizzically,
later, when I'm changed, she says,
'Santa looked like you,' suspiciously.
being Santa has made me see,
the happiness a good myth can convey,
those little faces flush with glee
to visit the Man with the Sleigh.