A Miracle at Christmas

It’s Christmas day at the madhouse
where statesmen run affairs;
Omicron’s running rampant but
it’s holidays – who cares?
The Saj and Thérèse Coffey are
engaged in a dispute:
maybe don’t snog a stranger
unless they’re really cute?
“Last year there was no party” –
the PM holds the line -
“and if there was it kept to rules
so everything is fine.”
But Secret Santa, party games
beneath the mistletoe?
And now – can you believe this, folks? –
a bloody video.
They use the smart new briefing room
that cost two million quid;
Allegra does her party piece
about what they just did.
“ A meeting – but with added drinks –
a gathering of staff.
But was there social distancing?”
The whole thing is a laugh.
In retrospect she can’t believe
her own stupidity;
she used to be respectable,
worked for the BBC.
But now she’s on her tearful way
it comes as no surprise
and Number Ten tells Johnson
he must apologise.
“The party I said never was
it seems has taken place.
Though nobody invited me –
and that’s the real disgrace.”
He stays upbeat, he keeps the faith:
“Though Fate’s about to screw yer  –
unto us a child is born.
Glory, Hallelujah!”