Christmas tills loudly ring
Calling louder than
the pealing of church bells
Christmas cheer
Is in short supply
In the aisles I fear
As people push and pull
And shout and mutter
In hordes descending
For the food that might vanish
From a shelf before their eyes
To be stuffed into a cupboard
Some to be used
And the rest destined
later for the rubbish tip
Together with mountains
Of wrapping paper and tinsel
The people race and scurry
All in such a terrible hurry
To greet the morn of the 25th
And then it’s gone
For another year