We opened our presents,
Both lavish and simple,
A tome mighty heavy,
By William Dalrymple,
A vegetarian cookbook,
French, quelle surprise,
A striped pair of PJs,
Donned in a breeze.
And then the cat climbed into a bag…

I had some chocolates,
Which will not last long!
This was all done to
Looped Christmas song!
Our niece was best pleased
With a nice DVD
Of one of the series
Of that hit show Glee.
And the cat nestled into her bag.

There was aftershave and perfume,
Liberally sprayed into the air,
A melange of odours,
That clung to your clothes and your hair,
And left each of us present
A tad frigidaire,
And the cat stayed in her bag.

A sleeping bag liner,
A beautiful cape,
Lush bathroom goodies,
Wrapped snugly in crepe,
Shed loads of wrapping,
Reams of red tape,
And all of this washed down
With lashings of “grape”,
And the cat wouldn’t come out of her bag.

She has a penchant
For things that will tinkle,
She tends to lie on
Clothes that crumple or wrinkle,
She’s so enclosed in that space
That she looks like a winkle,
And she’s now got a liking
For a bag that will crinkle,
We shall have to keep the cat’s bag!

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