Countdown

There’s not much to December
the pickings are quite slim –
I’m sure I’m on the naughty list
and think mince pies are grim.
I’m all stocked up with socks and pants,
It definitely won’t snow,
school seems never-ending,
and even worse – the Christmas show.
Nan’s knitting me a jumper,
in sprout-green polyester
(Last year I’d asked for Arsenal kit,
but ended up with Leicester)
But hark! There is one ray of light –
Oh, blessed cardboard box!
I love your little numbered doors
filled up with different chocs.
A new sweet treat each morning,
to get me out of bed,
one day shaped like a cracker,
the next a reindeer’s head.
(I’ve heard that in the olden days
you only got some pics,
of an angel or a lantern ¬–
they’d not heard of Mars or Twix)
But soon it will be over,
I’ll have opened every door –
and all there’ll be is Christmas,
like every time before.
The countdown must begin anew,
so for next year’s gift remember –

I’d like an Advent calendar calendar,
you open in November.