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Dear Molly O’keeffe

From Father Christmas’ Workshop, The North Pole

molly o'keeffe

Dear Molly,

Well here I am again, another year older, writing to you before I set off on yet another journey of wonderment this coming Christmas Eve. Are you still there? For in all honestly your letter is very late getting to me this year! A little bird told me – or was it one of my reindeer? – that you would like some surprise presents this year. I hope that is true for I have one or two really nice ones ready to go into my sack before I set off for Ireland on Christmas Eve.

Don’t forget to have all of your Christmas decorations up with the lights on your Christmas tree shining brightly, as a beacon to my reindeer, to help them spot your house on the ever so dark night before Christmas. I had better go now as one of my elves has a tooth aches, that he wants me to help him with, pulling it out.

From,

Santa, Father Christmas, for sure

 
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Posted by on December 21, 2016 in A Christmas message

 

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BREXIT – A Song of Joy – Freedom from the EU

♫ Come, sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU
Sing, sing a song of joy
For discharge from its madness
The day will dawn for us all
Standing firm and tall
We will break free
All men will stand along
Each other in their glory
Reach out, rejoice and be glad
For freedom that endures
Forever more
Then sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU
Come, sing a song of joy
Of freedom, tell the story
Sing, sing a song of joy
For people in their glory
One mighty voice that will bring
A sound that will ring
Forever more
Then sing a song of joy
For freedom from the EU. ♫

 
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Posted by on December 19, 2016 in BREXIT, EU, free, freedom

 

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Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

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At Christmas Everyone Loves a Sprout

At Christmas Everyone Loves a Sprout

 

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Three Old Ladies

Oh, dear, what can the matter be
Three old ladies locked in the lavatory
They were there from Monday to Saturday
Nobody knew they were there

The first one’s name was Elizabeth Porter
She went in to be rid of some overdue water
And she stayed there far more than she ought to
And nobody knew she was there.

CHORUS

The second one’s name was Elizabeth Pomphrey
She went in and made herself comfy
Then she said: “Girls, I can’t get my bum free.”
And nobody knew she was there

CHORUS

The last one’s name was Elizabeth Carter
She was known as a world renowned farter
She went in and played a sonata
And nobody knew she was there.

CHORUS

 
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Posted by on November 17, 2016 in funny story, humor, humour, Song

 

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A Treasury of Children’s Stories

 
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Posted by on November 16, 2016 in children's stories

 

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Fantastic Beasts and where to find them

Fantastic Beasts and where to find them,

That’s the aim and conundrum,

For they are keen and magical too,

And if not careful they will get you.

*

So when you set off with wand in hand,

Make sure it’s primed with magical rhymes,

For as sure as night follows each day,

You will need that magic to get your way.

*

And if you do, if you kill those beasts,

And make the world safe from gruesome deeds,

Don’t you forget how many there are,

Waiting, just waiting to strike from afar.

And where to find them

Fantastic Beats and where to find them

 

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Remember, remember the Fifth of November

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
the Gunpowder Treason and Plot,

I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent to blow up King and Parliament.

Three score barrels were laid below to prove old England’s overthrow;
By God’s mercy he was catch’d with a dark lantern and lighted match.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

Hip hip hoorah!

 
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Posted by on November 1, 2016 in ghosts, Guy Fawkes

 

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I’m dead and I’m feeling better

I’m dead and I’m feeling better,
Black and white, Vampires all around,
And oh, I must be getting bolder,
The need for blood is trying to get me down,
To the bodies, where it’s flowing away,
Sometimes I just don’t think I should to it,
But I then know it’s more than worth the waiting,
For another chance to drink some sweet warm blood.
Come on drink with me.
There are bodies with warm blood flowing away,
Sometimes I just don’t think I should drink it,
But yet I know it’s more than worth the waiting away
For another chance to drink that sweet warm blood
Come on drink with me.

free ebooks for everyone

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2016 in death

 

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Are You Normal?

Are you normal?

Do you want to be,

A faceless person in a heaving sea,

With no aims, ambitions, dreams or goals,

Just happily plodding along that road?

Are you slowly dying?

Don’t you feel the magic of each new day,

The sounds of laughter as children play,

The warmth of the sun on your back, so good,

The song of birds, the smell of wood?

 

Are you passing time?   

Don’t you wonder at the sky, so blue?

The start and end so vague to you.

I hear you say, ‘I am happy, still,’

So too is an ant that has no will.

 

 

Wake up, wake up!

It’s not too late,

There still is time to change your fate,

Renounce the normal, do something MAD,

Shock them all create a fad.

Be yourself, alive with goals,

With dreams and wonders still untold,

Exult this life in your distinctive way,

It’s yours alone; you must have your say,

Lest you slip into oblivion without a trace…

 
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Posted by on October 20, 2016 in poems

 

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