A Christmas Present Poem by Terry Donovan

She looked out the window on Christmas day
And could scarce believe her eyes
For what she saw beyond all doubt
Was a wonderful surprise.
A motor car all nicely wrapped
With ribbons, baubles and bells.
She thought 'Of all the gifts I've had
This certainly excels'.
She loved her old car sure enough
But in it had no trust
So unrebloodyliable,
A four-wheeled pile of rust.
So she was thrilled and tickled pink,
'Oh darling! How nice this is! '
She grabbed him, squeezed him oh so tight
And smothered him with kisses.
Then in her hand he pressed the key,
She thanked him and looked down,
But then her smiles all disappeared
And Changed into a frown.
These keys weren't new, she knew them well -
She'd had them several years.
They were the keys to her old car.
Now she was near to tears.
'I couldn't get another car',
He told her 'For I know
How much you love your Escort
And could never let it go, '
'You are a rotten sod, you know,
You really had me going.
You must have known what I'd have thought
When I saw what was showing,
But I've got nothing new at all,
That wrapping is a jest.
Your sense of humour really stinks,
I'm not the least impressed! '
'And nor am I' his curt reply
'Now just you hang about! '
He started getting angry
And his anger made him shout.
'Why not unwrap the bloody thing?
I've got you something nice.'

She did - and found inside the car
A pair of dangling dice.