I’m suppose to be in labour,
I’m only just in pain,
I’ve had Christmas without you,
It’s just not the same,
I miss you all so much,
It just doesn’t seem right some how,
Christmas used to be such fun,
With laughter games and jokes,
Fairy light and trimmings,
Just the five of us alone.
With Dad cooking Turkey,
And Mam peeling spuds,
Graham in his bedroom,
And Denise just full of love,
With little me drifting about,
With presents you’ve all given me,
But not this year, it’s Kevin now,
And just a little lump,
Which gives out all my troubles,
And makes me loose my love.
Perhaps next year will be different,
We’ll be in a house that’s warm,
With Kevin and a baby,
And lots and lots of fun.
To see baby’s movements,
To see Kevin pick it up,
Next year will be different,
But I’ll never forget my home.
This Christmas seems so odd,
With the nurse and the midwife,
Popping in and out to see my lump,
Its late the little swine is,
It’s lazy just like its Mam.
At home its different too this year,
Theirs Grannie living their now,
In a big new house all bright and gay,
You can’t help but have such fun,
It would have been so nice,
To have Christmas with Grannie,
That would be my biggest present,
But I know they’d be lots more wrapped up,
But a tin of Quality Street
From my dearest husband Kevin,
And that’s the way it’ll always be,
With Kevin by the side of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem