PaXmas

by Elizabeth Sheppard STB, 21st November 2011

Theres a static in our attic, in our airways crammed with planes;
they are rapping and theyre tapping on a theme well hear again,
for theyre drumming out deliveries from far across the sea,
conjured up by online orders in the Market of the Free.
Soon a multitude of parcels will envelop you and me,
(I can hear the postmen buzzing like a swarm of angry bees).
A thousand eager couriers will beat upon our doors,
demanding our e-signatures for global Santa Stores,
and many crimson Santa Suits will wing their way on high,
to bedeck a tribe of Santapersons, pillow-stuffed and spry.
Yet as LEDs a-twinkle on our plastic Xmas trees
lure unsuspecting kiddies to excessive, costly dreams,
our humble local shopkeepers may see their business drift
into disconnected limbo, where unglobal is unfit.
Dont get me wrong Im grateful for the gifts my mob will tend,
But remember, this is Christmas, not the Feast of Pack and Send.