Comfort and Joy
By JONATHAN CWEORTH
The big day dawned
like an apocalypse
and the natal star shone red
The Mother of God stood by the crib
with a Mona Lisa smile and downcast eyes
while Santa put a brave face on things
and handed out cigars
From their golden combat helicopters
the angels bombarded the cowering shepherds
with relentless goodwill and glad tidings
The animals wandered disconsolately
in fields of inedible tinsel
longing for grass
And eleven hundred virgins
with haloes of spray-painted wire
queued at the gift-wrapping counter for eternity
The three wise men had bought their gifts
well in advance (during the sales)
but couldn't find their camels in the car park
A riotous conclave of cardinals elected five popes,
declared that Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle was heresy,
and gave up Christmas pudding for Lent
In the Holy Land
a plague of partridges blighted the pear trees
and reindeer fell from the sky
The little drummer boy sold
a christening cup online
for thirty pieces of silver
And Jesus wept
• Jonathan Cweorth writes with a poetry group in Dunedin.
