Flavia Vanilla
'Twas New Year's Eve in the market
The New Year had yet to unfold
Old Father Time had a smile sublime
He'd got a good price for the old.

Christmas turkeys were selling half price
Which was rather more than they should
Mountains of stuffing could be bought for nothing
And they were paying the crowd to take pud.

King Wenceslas passed by and said
"What on earth is the date today?
I set out, at least, on St Stephen's Feast
But I seem to have lost my way."

A stall holder looked very sad as he said
"I'm sorry to tell you, Mate,
For Christmas cheer, you're too early next year
And for this year, you're too bloody late."

Most people had come to buy symbols
For seeing the New Year in
A portion of gruel and an item of fuel
A candle and wine by the bin.

A lady who asked for a piece of coal,
Caused quite a stir because
She said, "It comes in a sack, and it's dirty and black."
But no one could think what it was.

The market closed up its doors to trade
At twelve o' clock precisely
But it was nice to think that purveyors of drink
Were still doing very nicely.

Everyone sang some of 'Auld Lang Syne'
Well, the part they could remember
Which was more than all of them could recall
Of the last few hours of December.

On New Year's Day the postman struck
He'd delivered seven swans that day
After trees and rings and birds and things
All with excess postage to pay.

The Post Office manager, he explained
When the postman could be found
That drummers and ladies; lords, pipers, and maidies
Could all help him out with his round.

Moving from one year on to the next
Can be mentally and physically tough
Like being hearty at a Christmas party
I think I've had more than enough.
The end