With apologies to AA Milne 
Lord Wragg’s Christmas
Lord Wragg was not a good man —
He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
For days and days and days.
And girls who came across him,
When they his Lordship spied
Gave him a supercilious stare,
Or passed with noses in the air —
And bad Lord Wragg stood dumbly there,
And wished them crucified.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
And no good friends had he.
He stayed in every afternoon…
But no one came to tea.
And, round about December,
The cards upon his shelf
Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer,
And fortune in the coming year,
Were never from his near and dear,
But only from himself.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
Yet had his hopes and fears.
They’d given him no present now
For years and years and years.
But every year at Christmas,
While minstrels stood about,
Collecting tribute from the young
For all the songs they might have sung,
He stole away upstairs and hung
A hopeful stocking out.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
He lived his life aloof;
Alone he thought a message out
As he fixed his leaking roof.
He wrote it down and propped it
Where Santa Claus would see:
“TO FATHER CHRISTMAS, ON HIS SLEIGH
I’m not that naughty, so they say
I’m not as bad as Jollyrei,
Or Phlebas, Barb, or Tree!
“I want a new whip
And I want some candy;
A nice new rack
Would come in handy;
I don’t mind handcuffs
Or custard creams
And I SHOULD love a woman
Who really screams.
And, oh! Father Christmas, I’m quite at a loss
Without a fine girl upon her cross!
Lord Wragg was not a good man —
His message not too long
He gat him to his room again,
And put his PJs on;
And all that night he lay there,
A prey to hopes and fears.
“I think that’s him a-coming now!”
(Anxiety bedewed his brow.)
“He’ll bring one present, anyhow —
The first I had for years.”
“Forget about the whip,
And forget the candy;
I’m sure a nice new rack
Would never come in handy;
I don’t like handcuffs
Or custard creams
And I can live without a woman
Not even one that screams
But, oh! Father Christmas, if you even give a toss
Bring me a fine, naked, girl upon a cross!
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
Next morning when the sun
Rose up to tell a waiting world
That Christmas had begun,
And people seized their stockings,
And opened them with glee,
And crackers, toys and games appeared,
And lips with sticky sweets were smeared,
Lord Wragg said grimly: “As I feared,
Nothing again for me!”
“I did want a whip
And I did want candy;
I know a nice new rack
Would’ve come in handy;
I do love handcuffs
And yummy custard creams
I so wanted a woman
Who screams and screams and screams
And, oh! if Father Christmas, had given just a toss
He would have brought me a lovely, sexy naked
Woman on a cross!”
Lord Wragg stood by the window,
And frowned to see below
The happy bands of boys and girls
All playing in the snow.
And so he stood there feeling,
A bitter sense of loss
When through the window he did spy
With his beady, Wraggy eye,
A woman who did writhe and cry,
Upon her wooden cross!
OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS, YOU ARE GREAT
MY BLESSINGS, THAT, DESPITE THE FROST
YOU LEFT HER TO HER WRAGGY FATE
UPON HER WOODEN CROSS!
Lord Wragg’s Christmas
Lord Wragg was not a good man —
He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
For days and days and days.
And girls who came across him,
When they his Lordship spied
Gave him a supercilious stare,
Or passed with noses in the air —
And bad Lord Wragg stood dumbly there,
And wished them crucified.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
And no good friends had he.
He stayed in every afternoon…
But no one came to tea.
And, round about December,
The cards upon his shelf
Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer,
And fortune in the coming year,
Were never from his near and dear,
But only from himself.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
Yet had his hopes and fears.
They’d given him no present now
For years and years and years.
But every year at Christmas,
While minstrels stood about,
Collecting tribute from the young
For all the songs they might have sung,
He stole away upstairs and hung
A hopeful stocking out.
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
He lived his life aloof;
Alone he thought a message out
As he fixed his leaking roof.
He wrote it down and propped it
Where Santa Claus would see:
“TO FATHER CHRISTMAS, ON HIS SLEIGH
I’m not that naughty, so they say
I’m not as bad as Jollyrei,
Or Phlebas, Barb, or Tree!
“I want a new whip
And I want some candy;
A nice new rack
Would come in handy;
I don’t mind handcuffs
Or custard creams
And I SHOULD love a woman
Who really screams.
And, oh! Father Christmas, I’m quite at a loss
Without a fine girl upon her cross!
Lord Wragg was not a good man —
His message not too long
He gat him to his room again,
And put his PJs on;
And all that night he lay there,
A prey to hopes and fears.
“I think that’s him a-coming now!”
(Anxiety bedewed his brow.)
“He’ll bring one present, anyhow —
The first I had for years.”
“Forget about the whip,
And forget the candy;
I’m sure a nice new rack
Would never come in handy;
I don’t like handcuffs
Or custard creams
And I can live without a woman
Not even one that screams
But, oh! Father Christmas, if you even give a toss
Bring me a fine, naked, girl upon a cross!
Lord Wragg was not a good man,
Next morning when the sun
Rose up to tell a waiting world
That Christmas had begun,
And people seized their stockings,
And opened them with glee,
And crackers, toys and games appeared,
And lips with sticky sweets were smeared,
Lord Wragg said grimly: “As I feared,
Nothing again for me!”
“I did want a whip
And I did want candy;
I know a nice new rack
Would’ve come in handy;
I do love handcuffs
And yummy custard creams
I so wanted a woman
Who screams and screams and screams
And, oh! if Father Christmas, had given just a toss
He would have brought me a lovely, sexy naked
Woman on a cross!”
Lord Wragg stood by the window,
And frowned to see below
The happy bands of boys and girls
All playing in the snow.
And so he stood there feeling,
A bitter sense of loss
When through the window he did spy
With his beady, Wraggy eye,
A woman who did writhe and cry,
Upon her wooden cross!
OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS, YOU ARE GREAT
MY BLESSINGS, THAT, DESPITE THE FROST
YOU LEFT HER TO HER WRAGGY FATE
UPON HER WOODEN CROSS!
)
