Oz is right. Why wait a whole month when most cherished poets sally forth with their offerings within a couple of weeks? And nobody is going to versify after 19th December anyway; with all that huntin’, shootin’, fishin’, cookin’, shoppin’ and suppin’ to take care of, until twelfth night at the earliest.
So! Here’s a competition for everybody to enjoy. The game can even be played over a glass of port or while the children are busy trashing the tree; that is, if they’re not joining in this fun for all the family. The way it is played is as follows: choose a Xmas carol and recast the lyrics to celebrate all your favourite seasonal grub and tipples. (Oz will drool at the very thought of shepherds watching their flocks, I reckon.)
Kudos will accrue for mouth-watering phrases about your cordon bleu cuisine. Oh, and just one thing. Every musical menu must include my favourite winter veg, brussels sprouts. So over to you, Mr Starter, and good luck! (Gerrit? Starter? Never mind.)
Entries should be served up no later than my breakfast-time on 19th December.
Boadicea's Chariot 
While shepherds watched their flocks by night
They had no real idea,
That baleful eyes were watching them
To give them such a fright.
Those amber eyes were full of threat;
His instincts all alert.
For he’d to find a unique meal
A novel kind of meat,
‘Cos guests are fed up with the boar
and stir-fries curries, roasts.
And what to serve with Brussel sprouts
To bring them to the fore?
He has to give a different lunch
And cook a festive fare
That keeps the family satisfied
With something good to munch.
A turkey is no good, he thought,
Nor cow nor rabbit stew.
A leg of lamb will do the trick,
So one has to be caught.
He hunted at his very best
And crept up on the flock
Peace to lamb was not a deal;
A veil’s drawn o’er the rest.
OZ
Oh, C**tic! “And stir-fries, curries, roasts…..”
OZ
Love it, OZ!
Just remember those of you in the UK eat a mince pie on Christmas day and the penalty is transportation to the colonies. Really it is still and offence under Cromwell and never repealed.
By heck, Oz, that were quick! 🙂
Rick, I reckon there’ll be plenty of takers. Free passage to join our friends around the globe. 🙂
One from me.
Away Pret a Manger
no place to be fed
No dismal nut cutlets
my meat must be red
.
The starter as always
raw oysters ex-bay
or crunchy fried whitebait
If caught that same day.
Roast beef of olde England
is next to the plate
Horseradish and Yorkshire
are lying in wait.
Some veggies are needed
to round the meal out,
fine cabbage or carrots
NOT one Brussels Sprout.
Then pudding with brandy
afire on the top
extinguished with custard
or some other glop.
To fill up the corners
some nuts with the port
then mince pies and iced cake,
more drink of some sort.
All this is digested
by a quarter to three
when someone cries out
“Where’s my afternoon tea?”
AAHHH! So that’s how I got here……………………….
Mrs. O: Just reading?
Oh definitely! Not into competition unless someone is paying me a hefty hourly rate! Spent too many years at it! 20 years in advertising, writing copy and directing photography before I escaped was more than enough!!!! and an extra one, !
LW, you’re pretty smoky too! 🙂
CO, an ad girl, eh? So couldn’t you manage just a teensy weensy jingle for us then? In the style of “Oo meks a luvly coopa?” maybe?
For debutantes at this pome game here’s a DIY kit:
To the strains (gerrit?) of ”O come all ye faithful”
Let’s start with some der der,
Fresh-harvested in der-der,
Or maybe some der-der-der
From der-der-der-der.
Then there’s the der-der,
Roasted very slo-owly.
With roast and boiled potatoes
And carrots, der and der-der
And gravy der-der-de-er-der
And bru-ussels sprouts! 🙂
Another.
All Brussels Sprouts rejoice
You’ll never be my choice!
Give me time to have my say
News! News!
I’d sooner go without today
Spud or Swede they’re OK now
But Sprouts are only good to throw
Good to throw away!
Good to throw away!
All Brussels Sprouts rejoice
You’ll never be my choice!
Cauli cheese I would not miss
Joy! Joy!
Spinach even Chard, Swiss
Cabbage, good, so ask for more
Leave the sprouts upon the floor
Give the sprouts a miss
Give the sprouts a miss
All Brussels Sprouts rejoice
You’ll never be my choice!
Marrow, stuffed is what I crave
Peace! Peace!
Garlic’d beans are worth a rave
Or green peas minted overall
But Brussels cast a dismal pall
Give the sprouts a wave
Give the sprouts a wave.
Sheona averred:
Stew, stew, glorious stew!
But for Christmas dinner
It simply won’t do.
Despite this being the season of goodwill and peace to all men, I can’t let LW get away with that. 😀
Deck the plates with lamb and roasties,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Pile on carrots poached in butter,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Warm the boat and pour in gravy,
Tra-la-la, la-la-laaaa, la-la-lah
Mash those ‘tatties, mix in mustard,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah.
Boil the sprouts, but keep them crispy,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Roast some chestnuts, add to dishy
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Cook some parsnips bathed in honey,
Tra-la-la, la-la-laaaa, la-la-lah
This will be right on the money,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah.
Serve the soup and float the croutons,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Seat the guests and pass round crackers,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Flowing wine and lots of laughter,
Tra-la-la, la-la-laaaa, la-la-lah
Silly hats and too much tinsel,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah.
Serve the main course, keep it coming,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
All those treats that you’ve been cooking,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah
Pass the cheeses and the crackers,
Tra-la-la, la-la-laaaa, la-la-lah
Clear the table, burping gasping,
Tra-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-lah.
And a very Merry Christmas to my cherished reader. 🙂
OZ
(To the tune of “O Tannenbaum” or “The Red Flag” according to preference)
O Brussel sprout, o Brussel sprout
Why do so many hate you?
With turkey raw or overcooked,
Disgusting bread sauce looks like puke,
There’s so much worse than you. Ne’er fear,
I’ll keep the sprout flag flying here.
Thank you, OZ and Sheona. What a sproutfest we have here!
Biltong and boerrie from the braai
It’s what we’ll eat this Yuletide
Crayfish and prawns we’ll gently fry
While standing by the poolside
Chaar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar aar do nay
We’ll drink in great abundance
I am afraid my creativity only stretches to one verse.
Thanks, Sipu! Aar, aar, aar!