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A Christmas Poem

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the JP
Not a creature was stirring, not even an interviewee.

Pitt-snow-2The undergraduate rooms were all emptied and hoovered
And still smelling faintly of odour remover.

The Dean was worn out from a week of activities,
Leading the College’s Christmas festivities.

The Porters were tirelessly spreading good cheer:
“You’re here for an interview, are you, my dear?”

Applications had opened for a new Senior Tutor,
And in T, Alan Rogers was fixing the router.

The catering staff were still working with ardour
To set up a dinner in the Senior Parlour.

And all the alumni, from the east to the west,
Had heard of the generous Dolby bequest.

The Library had bidden most students adieu,
Only some grads remained, and the Pemgineer Igloo.

Millie the cat was curled up in LL,
With her Christmas dinner stinking out the stairwell.

And as Michaelmas term disappears out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

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