It started quite ironically
one brave chicken who fought back
but nothing could prepare mankind
for the Christmas Food attack
The Turkeys were the next to rise
They'd plucking had enough
of basting, roasting and having bums
with sage and onion stuffed
The spuds were next - both mashed and roast
sworn to kill us, those damn traitors.
King Edward led, officers born and bred,
themselves no common 'taters.
They roam the land, that starchy band,
striking planes, and tanks and ships -
It’s said if you don't keep your eyes peeled,
then you've really had your chips.
Even condiments have joined the fray
Black peppers launch assaults
boiling gravy rains as chaos reigns
in the Christmas Food Revolt.
The bloody gall of stuffing balls,
The cheek of beef and salmon,
Can they not just learn their rightful place,
These honeyed Ham and Gammon?
There's pigs-in-blanket bombing,
with Towns and cities hit,
with a cruel variant for Coventry;
Christmas pudding *and* the blitz.
Gingerbread Men drop gingerbread bombs,
A sickly cinnamon-sweet barrage.
And behind our lines, an army of Mince Spies
Committing acts of sabotage.
A battlefront of cakes and nuts
A thousand souls have fallen
Shallow graves marked out with candy canes
Their lives so cruelly stollen
The army have assembled,
Our foe won't join peace talks,
so, it's time to take the fight to them,
with spoons, and knives and forks.
Some veg conscientiously object,
"Give peas a chance", they implore.
But they number few, so only stew
their cries for calm ignored.
Where’s Santa when you need him?
Where’s trusty old Saint Nick?
The North Pole was the first to fall,
engulfed in Spotted Dick.
This'll be no trifling matter
how does one rout a sprout?
The only war on food and drink
should be when we're fighting gout.
The pheasants are revolting,
pigeons have staged a coup.
So, the call goes out to eat your greens
before your greens eat you.