That Year We Took Back the Goose

Picture-perfect. A village scene,
snow swirling, windows warm: amber sheen.
Dusk amongst the flurry, chimneys puffing tiny toots,
Tuck in, listen here, hang up those sodden boots:

Three hearths aglow and guests ambling in,
our Harlequin Host delighted with Krampian grin.
‘A Merry Christmas party!’ the Host’s cry did resound.
in masks and gowns, all gathered round.

‘But first,’ he said, ‘let’s have us a game,
‘sketch wintry cards with a tale told, the aim.’

Banter subsided and scribbles began,
until our centrepiece goose, proud and grand
interrupted our Host—‘Be jolly,’ the goose honked,
‘the winner is chosen, Father Christmas bids me say,
our Host, though humble, accepts victory today!’

The guests murmured ‘hogwash,’ disgust in their tone,
‘we’ve barely started,’ and turned on our Host, sat gawking alone.
Their fury unleashed with goose-knives in hand:
they tore at his finery, stabbed and stabbed and stabbed.

Yet, to their horror, our Host did not die,
but rose from their blows with fiery eyes.
Uninjured. Impervious. The goose cackled.
Our Host seized his soul-bird,
and fled, not saying a word.

March though he might, he sank into snow
when to confront what was lost, I appeared as foe—
‘not you,’ our Host clambered up to his knees
but I stood unmoving in the biting breeze.

‘I searched those islands, the Andaman shore,
‘the Nicobar coasts, Easter, and more.
‘You took Oxencharm, you tricked and betrayed,
‘now it’s my turn for debts to be paid.’

Our Host he grew sour, his goose-neck in grip,
‘You mangy hound-folk are made to perish, go, take that tip.’
He frowned, unfazed, but throttling his bird. 
‘you can’t kill me, dog, for I have faced the worst—
‘I shall endure, and you alone are accursed!’

‘How trite.’ I lifted our old duelling matchlock.
Bang—then silence—gunshot. A goose stilled
And, finally, our Host’s soul was killed.

Remember why we feast on Christmas goose,
for afterward, we shall eat our Host.
Man flesh for a year, how wonderful a use!
—this all in the card he drew as our victor, 'tis true.