The Festive Imperative

On the twenty-third of Christmas
My true love said to me,
“I’m going to play a little golf today.”
In fairness, you’ll know, it came as no surprise
But I bade him look into my eyes…
Two, blue and pleading
Apparently misleading,
One vaguely lucid
The other pretty putrid(!)(sorry!)
Swollen and hurting
Though still not diverting
Plans ready-made
With golf match to be played.
“You can catch the bus” he said
(Subtext: spare me the fuss, blind maid…)
Me, in distress
Not best impressed…
His wisdom abundant
Now obviously redundant.
How very daring,
Outrageously ensnaring,
Just because I’m hurting
To toy with perverting
His Man-Sport Imperative
On this season festive,
With “Goodwill To Man”
The call across the land.
Forgive my confusion
And inevitable disillusion:
I cannot help but wonder
Where that got so out of hand…!

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