Best Humbugs Poems
christmas comes but once a year
and thats too much for me
ive never been a fan of sitting round a dead pine tree
my favourite sweets are humbugs
turkeys for the yanks
and as for christmas crackers
would i pull yours
no thanks
bing crosbys on the radio
dreaming bout the snow
and fat men in red suits and beards
are everywhere i go
the queen comes on the tv
saying how shes had it rough
then steve mcqueen escapes again
and now ive had enough
ill get my coat and take a walk
the pubs just down the road
but that is closed for christmas day
so back to my abode
an early night sounds good to me
ill curl up with a book
forget about this christmas thing
its over now
thank god
For your (Turkish) Delight party invite
Sweetshop had shut up for the day
The Maltesers decided they were going away
They packed their gear in a Dairy Box
To climb a Glacier called Mint Fox
The sweets were now all wide awake
There was All Sorts of fun to make
The Chocolate Mice ran to and fro
As the Mars Bars to Mothers Pub did go
The Kit Kats spotted the chocolate mice
Who ran circles round the Coconut Ice
The Bounty cried because it was in dry dock
Time showed After Eight on the big wall clock.
The Marathons were training very hard
Some Pear Drops and Spangles standing on guard
The Smarties were looking for a Treet
They moved up market to Quality Street.
The clever Jelly Tots got carried away
Too lazy to walk, they used a Milk Tray
The Dolly Mixtures danced and sang
To All Gold heavy metal music -Bubble Gum went off with a bang.
The Coconut Mushrooms went timid and shy
Wine Gums and Chocolate Buttons looking up to the sky
To see The Sherbet Flying Saucers whizzing around
The Liquorice Torpedoes stayed firmly on the ground
The Jelly Tots decided to loop the loop
Chocolate Cigarettes played Polo20and Hula Hoop
Sherbet Dips joined their friend Liquorice Straw
The Crème Eggs were lying flat out on the floor.
Even the Minstrels loved this free for all party
The Humbugs were picking a fight with a Smartie
But they all agreed a good Feast was had by all
As they danced the night away at the Aniseed Ball.
(c) Barbara Brewin 27thAugust 2008 All rights reserved
One Tuesday evening recently with the house empty but me,
I thought I’d spread out on the couch and see what’s on the ‘telly’.
It was close to half past eight and so I thought I’d watch ‘The Bill’,
and catch up with the pommy cops who plod around ‘Sun Hill’.
I’d pulled the ring top off a stubby and got meself a bag of chips
for me to dip into a jar of one of them bitey salsa dips.
Now I’m settled down upon the couch with me feet up off the floor,
and wouldn’t you just know it - there’s a knock upon the door.
Three little kids were standing there; one with paper in his hand.
And the eldest wouldn’t yet be six, so I couldn’t understand,
who’d let their kids out on the street here in the fading light,
to go knocking on a stranger’s door at this hour of the night.
At first I thought ‘its Halloween!’ So this is trick or treat,
and the kids were wanting me to give them something sweet.
I asked them if they wanted humbugs, gobstoppers or rumball,
but the three all looked confused ‘cause it ain’t Halloween at all.
So then the eldest shook his head - his answer it was blunt,
“No mister, no it’s not! We’re out upon a treasure hunt.
We’ve found twenty of the twenty-five, treasures that we seek,
but we have to find the other five - can you help us so to speak”.
“What’s on your list?” I asked, and he read out in slow motion,
“There’s three grains of oats; an empty bottle of hand lotion.
A chop bone and four sardine tins; the wings off seven dragonflies -
and once we get the twenty five we get a dollar for a prize!”
“Well that’s a challenge!” So I said, but I thought I smelt a rat.
So I asked them who invented a treasure hunt like that.
They sort of smirked and looked away, but finally in the end,
the middle fella quietly said - “Our babysitter’s boyfriend!”
On a frozen April morning when the frost was in the trees
There was blossom like a snowstorm as the sun warmed up the breeze
There were blackbirds making music teaching angels how to sing
While the bees began to forage, golden humbugs on the wing
Daffodils were slowly swaying under bushes turning green
And a bluetit woos his lady in a spot he thinks unseen
There's a fox that's heading homeward jumping fences on the way
Everything is looking perfect as the spring gets underway
As I whistled to the starlings that were sweeping up the street
And I skipped along the pavements missing cracks with both my feet
I was feeling very silly under skies so clear and blue
And it's all your fault my darling since you whispered "I love you"
I finally get it.
It has nothing to do with me.
I opened the eyes in my heart
and now I truly see.
I know that I'll be locked up
and that I wont get a toy.
But my heart is beating like a drum
and it's drumming in the Christmas joy.
Happy Birthday Jesus!
Thank you Father for your Son.
The gift of my salvation
after my time on earth is done.
What an awesome present.
There isn't anything I want more.
I asked Him to come into my heart
and He walked right through the door.
I was feeling sad and lonely.
It's hard to be happy here in jail.
But when I think of Jesus' Birthday.
It makes me smile without fail.
Merry Christmas everybody!
I hope you feel it too.
If you've got the bah humbugs.
It's not about me or you.
It's about our Lord Jesus.
The gift that everyone can share.
God gave to us His only Son.
So let Him know how much you care.
I wrote this one Christmas when I
was in jail and thought I lost it
but there it was in my memory.
Merry X-mas everyone and God Bless you.
The Storyteller
he is always there, in those glamoured
dream soaked holy days,
etched keenly into the memory
a fixture of the summers
that flowed then melted into one another
to eddy around the stone bench
at noon, in the park of Ave Lyon.
faithfully he appeared
on the clocks twelfth stroke
elegant fingers pulled humbugs
from intriguing paper packets
white hair tamed beneath a silken cap
soft snowy beard drifted across his chest
eyes a sharp twinkling blue, saw all.
long drowsy afternoons we sat,
shaded beneath an ancient oak,
slipped through the cracks of time
caught within the silver words
of that timeless apothecary of dreams.
our willing guide, to worlds unknown,
could captivate our school freed minds
with chance for magic carpet rides
quest for golden sheep skin prize
knight’s and fiery dragon’s lives
my eyes would see him still
should I chance to pass that green oasis
in summers never, never land.
Gran
I’m at me Gram’s for tea tonight
She’ll have the fire stoked up nice
Run me a bath and make me tea
She likes to fuss and look after me
I walk through the door an I’m unwrapped
Scarf, Hat, Gloves hands round face clasped
She smells of Lavender and Mint Humbugs
Through layers of wool come wonderful hugs
I’m ushered into her parlour, and sat in the chair
She puts more wood on the fire, and red cheeks flare
We talk about my day, and Dad in the Navy
Dinners ready, Pie, Mash, Peas and Gravy
The doorbell rings and Mums home from work
I collect all my bags and give Gran a smirk
“Go on with you” she says, and gets sweets from the tin
Mum opens the car door and I clamber in
I love my Gran, and she loves me
Can’t wait to go next week for tea
secrets in grandmas purse
There were hidden depths in Grandma Kates purse.
Children, gathered close when she came to stay, hoping
to partake of some strange or exotic tidbit. Everyone tried
to look nonchalant but were bursting to peer inside.
humbugs with creamy stripes
sen sen in a paper packet
red turkish delight
Ye Olde Sweet Shoppe
Let's take a journey back in time to the 1900's
when children would delight in regular visits to
their sweet shop in England, they had a large
range of lollies and their eyes would all light up
at the sight of these delectable treats, they had
many different favourites like licorice and sherbet
that would melt in their mouth, mint rock, barley
sugar sticks, lollipops, humbugs, gobstoppers as
well as the famous hand made chocolates and
toffees and many more delicacies, the children
would drive their parents crazy until they got
their bag of sweets, in the end the parents had
to give in to their whims and they also bought
some for themselves to eat while relaxing at home.
We go back to the present and sweets are still on
display at the local supermarket, the nostalgia
has been replaced by commercial trading, turning
over huge profits for corporate business giants.
The good old days will never return as this is the
modern world of today's money hungry executives.
Written: 11th July 2013
On the first day of Christmas
Take Advent age of Xmas countdown
On the second day of Christmas
Holly was a thorn in the side
On the third day of Christmas
Ivy was a real creep
On the fourth day of Christmas
They got a frosty reception
On the fifth day of Christmas
Three wise men proclaimed it was crackers
On the sixth day of Christmas
Who is Mary Christmas? Why Carol’s cousin of course
On the seventh day of Christmas
Yule be getting excited – it’s Claus and effect
On the eighth day of Christmas
All presents present but bah humbugs in Christmas stockings
On the ninth day of Christmas
You snow it won’t reindeer on Christmas day
On the tenth day of Christmas
Time for silent night so sleigh bells
On the eleventh day of Christmas
Coffee-loving Prancer and Dancer are Santa’s Starbucks
On the twelfth day of Christmas
Let’s eat cold turkey and peas on earth
Ho Ho Ho!
‘CALL-UP TIME’
They’ve taken our Danny to war, they have.
They’ve taken our Danny to war.
I wish he’d come home ‘cos I feel all alone-
So what have they taken him for?
Who’s gonna pass on his trousers?
Who’s gonna give me some sweets?
Humbugs and pear drops and tiger nuts too.
And chocolate sometimes, for a treat.
Who’s gonna keep up our veg patch?
Who’s gonna dig up the spuds?
Do all the weeding and planting and stuff-
An’ chop sticks to make us some wood?
Who’s gonna help with the chickens?
Who’s gonna pick up the eggs?
And comfort me Mam when she feels a bit low
An say ‘Just sit down-rest yer legs’.
Who’s gonna help me be grown-up?
Who’s gonna stop me being sad?
They’ve sent for our Danny so what will I do
When I need someone just like me Dad?
They’ve taken our Danny to war, they have.
They’ve taken our Danny to war.
I wish he’d come home ‘cos I feel all alone
So what have they taken him for?
Colin Trenholme
Whatever your age.
You turn the page.
Another year gone by.
Do not sigh.
Every year is a lesson.
On how to get to heaven.
The older you are.
The greater your star.
With posterity. Comes verity.
Gone the humbugs. Gone the grudges.
A new year begun.
You feel so young.
The body may not be as good.
The soul stays as it should.
Young and vibrant.
Like an infant, just begun
holiday falsity
comes just like the
gathering together
during a tragedy,
when everyone
“forgets” their
differences & bands
in order to defeat
the common
catastrophe of the
moment---
that which is making
its best attempt to
extinguish us all.
that warm comfort
whose warmth is
churned because of
“this time of year”
when americans
round up by the millions
to spend spend spend
the money that they
complain about not
having for the rest of
the year &
the manufactured smiles
dealt by those who feel
obligated to not be
“humbugs,” “scrooges,”
or simply the kind of
person who has the
bitter foresight to know
that around January
10th, everyone will be
back to backstabbing
again.
Sounded Like Sitting On a Cactus
Should have to hear when at practice;
Sounded as if were sitting on a cactus;
They would be,
Always off key;
Men are humbugs while women a priss.
Jim Horn
Off to choir practice.
Get a hobby and you will think it is Christmas most days,
Get a hobby and happiness will be with you to stay,
Get a hobby and you will see the world afresh each day,
Get a hobby and your life will never be boring.
Get a hobby if you want the conversation to flow,
Get a hobby if you are into sharing and caring.
Get a hobby and you will see beauty in small things,
Get a hobby and your hands will never be idle,
Get a hobby and make it easy for your friends and family,
To choose the right gift to put under the Christmas tree,
And ensure the house is free of humbugs.