The Brewery's online advent calendar

Ho ho ho... we had a festive lyrical treat for you our web visitors in the run up to the big day. 

Courtesy of our very own Bard of the Brewery, Barnaby Eaton-Jones, each day a poem was added to celebrate the countdown to Christmas. You can still enjoy these poems for a limited time below!

Barnaby Eaton-Jones - www.barnabyeatonjones.com
Cheltenham Poetry Festival - www.cheltenhampoetryfest.co.uk

The Festive Countdown continues!

 

‘CHRISTMAS EVE'

Children all over the country,

Are refusing to go to bed.

Excitable wide-eyed anticipation

Is taking over their head.

For tonight is the night for wishing,

Tonight is the night for hope.

Tonight is the night for mince pies
and sherry,

Tonight no parents will cope.

There will be tears and there will be
tantrums,

There will be promises of sleep and
dreams.

But, these promises will just be
broken,

When the excitement turns to screams.

Has the stocking been hung on the
bedpost?

Has the pillowcase been put on the
chair?

Has the carrot been laid out for
Rudolph?

Will Father Christmas remember you’re
there?

Debates about naughty and niceness,

And bribes of sweets if you sleep.

For Father Christmas cannot visit,

If he has to be quiet and creep.

He must be allowed to make noises,

So, sleep is the name of the game.

Because a fat bloke with a sack and
very bad back,

Shuns all the publicity and fame.

Father Christmas just wants to reward
you,

With presents that will make your
eyes pop.

So, children everywhere, please take
care,

No sleeping on this Eve must stop.

Close your eyes and dream of tomorrow,

And in the morning you will awake.

To hard-earned gift-wrapped
surprises,

To prove that Father Christmas is no
fake.

23. ‘SISTER SLEDGE’

My sister was very thin,

She was also very tall.

Whereas I was rather fat,

And shaped just like a ball.

So, when the snow did cover,

Every slope and every hill.

I used my sister as a sledge,

For she always lay quite still.

 

  22. ‘CAROLLING’

Are you a Christmas Martin?

Are you a Christmas Stan?

Are you a Christmas Jody?

Are you a Christmas Dan?

Are you a Christmas Amy?

Are you a Christmas Jenny?

Are you a Christmas Ben?

Are you a Christmas Kenny?

Well, if you’re not named above,

And you’re wearing Christmas apparel.

There’s only one person you can be,

And that’s a Christmas Carol.

 

21. ‘STUFFED’

Turkeys are lurking,

Hiding away.

Turkeys are quivering,

On Christmas Day.

To stop Turkey fear,

Be more humanitarian.

Kill a nut instead,

And roast a Vegetarian.

 

20. ‘CARDIOLOGY’

I have a little system,

It comes straight from my heart.

I call it ‘cardiology’,

Let me tell you from the start.

Rather than writing a list,

Of all the Christmas Cards you will send.

Just carry a box around with you,

You’ll see why, in the end.

Because there’s always someone you’ve forgotten,

Who gives you a card at the list minute.

You don’t have time to retaliate,

And you can’t, when their back’s turned, bin it.

So, instead, you produce your box,

Full of Christmas Cards, pre-signed,

Just scribble the name of the late-giver,

“Oh, for me? Well, you’re just too kind!”

 

19. ‘GIVE-AWAY GIFTS’

Have you ever had a Christmas present,

That you really didn’t like?

A too-big knitted sweater,

Or a rain-cover for your bike?

A photo of the person who gave you the gift,

Or Barbie when you are a boy?

The oddly-shaped Japanese knock-off,

Of an otherwise brand-named toy?

Did you get vouchers for River Island,

When you asked specifically for Next?

Or did you get a second-hand mobile,

With no Sim Card or Unlimited Free Text?

Well, this year, why not be a Samaritan,

And ask for a donation to be spread.

Across charities that mean something to you,

Which will give you peace of mind instead.

 

18. ‘LOST IN FROST’

In the star-bright night of Winter,

When Jack Frost is trampling on leaves.

The snap, crackle, pop of the fallen,

Sound out on all of the eves.

There’s a wind that catches the breathing,

And swirls it like candyfloss grey.

It gets lost in the mist of the nightfall,

As Jack Frost scampers away.

So, walk at a pace that is brisk now,

To get back to fires that burn.

Because Jack Frost likes to nip you,

Around whichever corner you turn.

17.‘SANTA GOES GREEN’

In the days of ecological awareness,

When the planet is globally warming.

The ice on both Poles is melting,

Which sends out an instant warning.

Perhaps we should all take a lead
from Santa,

Who runs his sleigh on
reindeer-power.

And only uses his vehicle once a
year,

And then only for a few scant hours.

His factory isn’t powered by
electricity,

Or coal, or oil or gas to bill them.

In fact, the only natural resource he
uses,

Are the wishes of little children.

But there’s one final thing he has to
cut back on,

The paper for lists and letters will
stop next.

He’s working on getting a mobile,

So, everyone can now just text.

16. ‘TINSEL WINCE ALL’

I have an aversion to tinsel,

I really don’t know why.

The metal-effect and the sparkly
colours,

Just make me want to cry.

I think it stems back to my
childhood,

When I really was quite teeny-weeny.

I was made to dress up as a Christmas
Fairy,

In an itsy-bitsy tinsel bikini.

 

15. ‘MINCE SPY’

When my Granny cooked her mince pies,

The other Grannies were full of rage and bile,

They couldn’t cook mince pies as delicious,

Even with Jamie Oliver on speed-dial.

So, they got together in a pensionable group,

Together they’d be unstoppable.

Wearing black jumpsuits and quoting Tom Cruise,

Singing the theme from ‘Mission: Impossible’.

They were going to steal my Granny’s recipe,

And use it for their own Christmas cooking.

They’d winch the lightest Granny through the bungalow skylight,

When my Granny was turned away and not looking.

So, down on a zip-wire came Violet,

Who was turning as purple as her name.

For the harness was caught in her Granny pants,

And causing considerable pain.

She came to a halt over the worktop,

Hovering over the recipe book.

She turned the pages with precaution,

To have that secretive look.

But the page for mince pies was devoid of text,

With a picture of a raspberry instead.

And the sound of my Granny poking her tongue out,

Could be heard in Violet’s head.

“Quick, winch me back out!” cried Violet,

“Our plan has been rumbled!” she sighed.

The purple-haired gang of old ladies in black,

Were redundant as secret Mince spies.

And my Granny still held the secret,

And never passed it on, which was odd.

But, I heard tell, when Granny was unwell,

That her nickname was Mrs Sweeney Todd.

Gulp.

 

14. ‘ELF ON THE SHELF’

 

A lonely little Elf,

Who was not at all practical.

Was left to tend the reindeer,

And not do anything magical.

He couldn’t work the lathe,

The saw, the drill or the file too,

His job in Santa’s Grotto,

Was Chief Picker-Upper of reindeer poo.

So, when you think of Santa’s elves,

Busy working at their benches with glee,

Spare a thought for this lonely sidelined Elf,

Who never passed his Woodwork GCSE.

 

13. DASHER, DANCER, PRANCER, VIXEN, COMET, CUPID, DUNDER & BLIXEM

My Uncle is called Rudolph,

                                                  On account of his bright red nose.

                                            He’s also got big antlers,

And hooves instead of toes.

He’s very hairy all over,

And likes eating leaves from a tree.

He can run up to fifty miles per hour,

Which is considerably faster than me.

Now I look more closely,

I’ve realised that’s not my Uncle at all.

It’s actually Rudolph the reindeer,

And he’s answering the sleigh-bell call.

If my Uncle was actually a reindeer,

I’m not sure my Auntie would be that stupid.

As to marry the one with the red shiny nose,

When she could’ve been romanced by Cupid.

 

12. ‘MULLING OVER WINE’

Wine is best served chilled,

So says Oz Clarke, the great grape buff.

You drink certain hues with meat or fish,

And he really knows his stuff.

But, I find, when at Christmas,

Oz Clarke’s knowledge is inferior.

Because mulled wine is best served heated,

And is infinitely and gloriously superior.

 

 

11. ‘X TO THE M TO THE
MASSES’

The mode of transport for Father
Christmas,

Was a little on the old-fashioned
side.

So, to be more ‘down with the kids’,

He decided to pimp his ride.

He added a double exhaust,

That sounded like thundering farts.

He put fluorescent blue lights under
the runners,

And added a few stolen parts.

Stereo speakers so heavy on
bass-lines,

That the vibrations made you feel
sick.

A sticker with his name on the
windscreen,

The tacky equivalent of hats saying
‘Kiss Me Quick’.

The suspension was set super low now,

With no comfort when he lands on a
roof.

He learnt to speak teenager’s lingo,

With a “Yo, Bro’!” and an “Ain’t it
da troof?”

He shaved his white beard into a
goatee,

And had a tattoo of Rudolph across
his back.

His clothes were swapped for a red
tracksuit,

And he now sported a Burberry sack.

But, when he saw himself in
reflection,

He felt like a bit of a fool.

He wasn’t supposed to look like an
Xmas rapper,

Father Christmas is always ‘old
skool’.

Innit?

  10. ‘CHRISTMAS SONG’

If I write a song for Christmas,

Telling of joy and snow and mulled wine;

Of a worldwide peace and decorated trees,

And snowmen built all in a line.

Featuring a choir of angelic school kids,

With bells ringing throughout the tune.

Plus, a reference to Christmas Eve night,

Like the stars or night-sky or moon.

If I wrap it all up in coloured tinsel,

And see if it floats Simon Cowell’s boat.

Then I’ll get a Number One for Christmas,

And the royalties will keep me afloat!

 

9. ‘HOIST THE MAIN SALES’

When the shops reduce their prices,

It’s like being on a boat.

You have to steer through tricky waters,

And it’s hard to stay afloat.

With the recession cast as Pirates,

Boarding (up) all the shops.

How do businesses keep plain sailing,

Will the sales help them find dry docks?

With the public crying mutiny,

At a Government Captain Bligh.

 The only Mr Christian at Christmas,

Is the one up in the sky.

So, set a course for stormy waters,

On the high street and market stalls,

Navigate your spending this Christmas,

We’re sale-ers, one and all!

 

8. ‘FOOD AND DRINK’

                              I’m stuffed, said the Turkey,

                                        Rather aptly.

                                I’m drunk, said the wine,

                                    At Christmas time. 

 

7. ‘CHURCH SERVICE’

I once went to a Church Service,

To have my Church MOT-ed.

It passed with flying colours,

And all on bended knees.

 

  
                              6. ‘SNOW GLOBE’

                                 The Earth is just a giant snow globe,

Made by a celestial being.

With ever-changing dioramas,

To give variety in what they are
seeing.

So, when you hear of an unexpected
snowstorm,

Or feel dizzy when you’re jolted
awake.

You’ll know it was just this higher
being,

Giving the snow globe a jolly good
shake.

5. ‘DECK THE HALLS’

Every year, around about Christmas,

My neighbours and I have a fight.

For they don’t agree with adorning,

Their house with Christmas lights.

Whereas my house is lit up like a rainbow,

With colours of every known hue.

                                             “You’re so tacky!” cry my neighours,

                                 “And you’re not very eco-friendly too!”

                                   My neighbours are Mr and Mrs Hall,

  And with their son, make three.

     They don’t even celebrate Christmas,

Not even with one tiny tree.

For Christmas for them, they say,

Is consumerism and capitalist greed.

So, all they do every December,

Is get their dog deflead.

So, this year, I’ve bought me a Santa,

To stick on the front of their door.

On Christmas Eve, my present to them,

Is to give them a gift like never before.

This Santa is wearing some boxing gloves,

And rigged with explosives and powder,

With a tripwire attached to a detonator,

The explosion could not be any louder.

The scene of the crime will be magical,

As the white snow continually falls.

This year they’ll be no moaning,

As I finally deck the Halls.

 

                                                                  4. ‘MISTLETOE’

                                    “Kiss me under the mistletoe!”

                                   Said my drunken Uncle John.

                                                        As he stood there semi-naked,

                                                            In the rudest Rudolph thong.

                                                      But, the worst thing about that ritual,
 
                                               Wasn’t the booze that had gone to his head.

                                        But when he was kissed underneath the mistletoe,

                                              Rudolph’s nose, on his thong, flashed red.

                                                               3.   ‘FAIRY STORY’

                    Stuck on top of the Christmas Tree,

                   Is an uncomfortable place to be.

Nobody looks directly at me.

Or takes me seriously.

For once, can I sit at the base,

So you can see my fairy face?

 

Tied to the top of the Christmas Tree,

Leaves me with little dignity.

I’m a prisoner of with no place to flee,

Nobody will give me the key.

For once, can you be less alert,

And stop taking a peek up my skirt?

 

Sat on top of the Christmas Tree,

I’m desperate for a quick wee.

I have to squeeze together each knee.

Until the approach of January.

For once, can I go to the loo,

Or at least have a potty up here too?

 

Bored on top of the Christmas Tree,

Watching people open presents with glee.

Nobody buys anything for me.

I’m an ornament and that’s all I’ll be.

For once, could my wand do magic,

And make all this a little less tragic?

 

Starving on top of the Christmas Tree,

I’m as thin as Angelina Jolie.

The roast turkey looks so yummy.

The pudding is set alight with brandy,

For once, could you feed me some dinner,

Before I get any thinner?

 

Taken off the top of the Christmas Tree,

When things become less celebratory.

I have it on good authority,

I’ll be forgotten ‘til next year, you see,

For once, could there be a little more fuss,

A fairy is for life and not just for Christmas.

 

  2. ‘NO MAN’

I am not living, yet I have two black eyes.

I am not known, yet I wear no disguise.

I am not vegetable, yet I have a carrot for a nose.

I am not a model, yet I’m stuck in one pose.

I am not naked, yet I’m just in scarf and hat,

I am not exhausted, yet I’m always silently sat.

I am not female, yet nor am I male,

I’m the silent Snowman, yet I told you my tale.

 

 

1. ‘ICED DREAM’

The snow falls like dandruff from an old man’s shoulder,

As the colours disappear and the atmosphere gets colder.

Settling en masse like a gelatinous duvet of marshmallow,

Making once bounteous fields became dry and quickly fallow.

Crunchy underfoot like the sound of breakfast cereal,

The sun shines from afar, with rays so weak and immaterial.

So, here is your landscape, a wonderland of white.

And what do we do with it? Why, of course, a SNOW FIGHT!