When the trimmings have been boxed up and the feasting is done,
When the kids are outside playing and the in-laws have all gone,
When dad has stopped his moaning about BBC repeats,
When the gifts are all discarded or returned without receipts,
When my very last hangover becomes a distant haze,
When the turkey has been served up in numerous different ways,
Then I sweep the floor of Christmas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem