In the run up to Christmas, our Fudge Kitchen Shops have put pen to paper to produce some fantastically festive poetry and we crowned our Oxford Team the champions with this fantastic entry:
The Bucket and the Box
T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the shop
Not a person was buying, but we got a new mop!
We had waited for weeks for it to be delivered,
As the weather got worse, we huddled and shivered.
At last Santa left us a sweet early gift
To help us clean up at the end of the shift.
We know it was Santa, he had a huge rear
And his old postal van was pulled by reindeer
He could not fool us, with his Fed-Ex disguise,
His belly was jelly and he had twinkly eyes.
The box was opened with relish and care
By the delicate hands of the fair lady Claire
Jess reached her hands in, all tender and slow,
While we gathered around, our faces aglow.
“A Bucket! A Bucket! A Mop Bucket!” we cheered,
Whilst young Tom just stood there, his eyes had both teared.
The Bucket stood proudly, the best we had seen,
It was shiny and regal and sinfully green.
As everyone stared at the new gift in awe
Foolish Martin snuck off to the back of the store,
For Martin had found a much better treat:
The package it came in was really quite neat.
The package was square and boxy and brown,
Martin squealed with glee, checking no one was around,
He dipped in his toe, and then his whole shoe.
It felt so damn good, in came foot number two.
He stood in the box like a king among men.
“This box is a Palace, it shall be my new den.”
When ordinary men would have got bored and quit,
Martin wondered and pondered, “Will the rest of me fit?”
He crouched like a tiger and thought like a mop
Til his wriggling posterior slid in tight with a flop.
The box was so cosy, he soon fell asleep
With no need for cushions or counting of sheep.
While visions of sugarplums danced in his head,
Martin slept through the crunch of the Fed-Ex mans tread.
He picked up the box, soft as fresh fallen snow
Then he left in a glimmer, with a faint “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
The jolly fat man took poor Martin away,
And as far as we know, he’s still there to this day
And so kids, you be warned when you climb in a box,
Keep your feet nice and clear, and wear jingly socks.
