Snippets

The Key To Christmas

Last Christmas remains fixed in our memories not so much for the goodwill and cheer we shared with friends and neighbours but for one of those incidents that can be traumatic. You see we went out on Christmas Eve to visit friends and do some last minute shopping and lost the key to our house.

We discovered the loss only on our return to the house when we faced the solid oak doors that kept us in the rain outside our home and could not be opened other than with the large brass key that worked the lock or a battering ram to break them down.  After searching ourselves and the car we retraced our steps and recovered the key. It had dropped from my pocket in the local supermarket.  All was well again. Once indoors, and with great relief I penned the piece of doggerel below.

The Key to Christmas

It was Christmas Eve on the doorstep

It was wet and cold as hell.

The key had gone from my pocket

Where it was no one could tell.

We searched our coats and searched the car

And searched the drive as well

But the missing key stayed missing

And our Christmas Spirits fell

Let's retrace our steps to find the key

Said Peter all contrite

So back we went to where we'd been

At a speed approaching flight.

We stopped and searched our friend's house

Where we'd had a glass of beer.

But no key appeared from somewhere

to give our hearts some cheer.

The supermart was our next stop.

Where we searched in vain outside.

In my best French I told our  tale

To the busy staff inside.

Bien Sur exclaimed the manager

and produced our missing key.

I then wished him Happy Christmas

And he did the same to me.

And now back on the doorstep

But on the inside of the door.

We're going to enjoy our Christmas

And not go out no more.