Old Time Christmas Unicorns

Unlike Pegasus, they had magical horns,
now no unicorns are left 
despite the lack of any government import bans.

It was a Christmas season In East London,
Tiny Tim and the fat goose had been killed off in distant wars, 
the goose received the George Cross for gallantry 
(posthumously), 
and little crippled Tim was shot by us
for running away from a hail of bullets.

Mum and Dad had hidden in a cellar 
while Unicorns died left and right;
they had given up on Christmas -
we just listened to it on the radio.

Back then it was a monochrome world, 
and grey was as good as sunlight to us.
There were minstrel shows, 
but people of any color were not allowed…
no one defined what ‘not allowed’ meant.
The Jews were blamed for the lack of Unicorns everywhere.

It was a time for reflection, and reconciliation,
a time to regroup the happy forces of Dickensian novels
and shove them in the faces of Unicorn deniers.

Later in that holy season, gay folks were invented,
we had to all stop being ‘gay’ or even moderately content, 
but we kept our belief in unicorns’
in a typically English half-hearted way.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Lamoureux Avatar
August 12, 2019 at 11:45 AM
My pleasure.
Ashford Avatar
August 12, 2019 at 9:41 AM
LOL, best review ever! Thanks Richard!
Lamoureux Avatar
August 12, 2019 at 9:30 AM
I feel like a judge on American Idol that has run out of superlatives to describe continued amazing performances. So I will inarticulately say Wow!
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace