The Christmas Pudding

by Thomas Vaughan Jones
(Liverpool UK)

This is a sad despairing tale
that I have to relate;
of how my Christmas pudding
decided to migrate.

It sat, as Christmas puddings do,
and simmered in the pan,
while nobody suspected that
it had a daring plan.

It soaked up all the energy,
that all pervading heat,
and growing to fantastic size
exploded from its seat.

It bounced across the kitchen
then slid along the floor,
and with no hesitation
it clambered through the door.

The door had been left open
to dissipate the steam,
enabling our pudding
to realise it's dream.

It set out on the open road,
determined to be free,
and never ventured to look back
nor thought again of me.

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