And here’s a little Twickenham Christmas something to read aloud as you sit by the fire on Christmas Eve.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE TWICKMAS
or “A Visit From Saint Nicholas”
not by Clement Clarke Moore
Twas the night before Twickmas and all through the town,
Not a creature was stirring, the shops had closed down,
No stockings were hung on the chimneys for fear,
That El Brute’s famous leader, Lord True, would appear.
El Brute and Nick True planned to make Twickenham better,
Sending plans out to all in a ‘village’ newsletter,
The Twickenham Action Plan, known as the TWAP,
Contained fine aspirations but also some crap.
Twickenham Biz Association got in on the act,
And with Twickenham Alive made a delicate pact,
That they’d limit the number of fetes, fairs and “fun days”,
To just thirty weekends and all Holiday Mondays.
El Brute’s master plan was to transform the town,
With a scheme that would earn the Blue Baron the crown,
It had consultations galore to be picked through at leisure,
And two or three divisive things for good measure.
The plan for a faith school upset quite a few,
But the Baron’s big scheme survived judicial review,
And went on to be opened just as he’d described,
(We’ll gloss over the part where it’s undersubscribed.)
The new station idea upset many folk,
With Solum’s tall plan slammed by some as a joke,
But opposition to this also fell in the courts,
Leaving a Riverside councillor well out of sorts.
And so the plan moves on for that modern / Georgian station,
A sight to truly inspire England’s great rugby nation,
And at the World Cup, with England in their prime,
We’ll wonder why it never got finished on time.
Now, the Action Plan promised new pavements a plenty,
But bikes lanes, bus stops and a speed limit of 20
Proved much harder for El Brute to work their way through.
They said, “Why can’t those residents think like we do?”
On Christmas Eve, Saint Nick’s sleigh flies through the air,
And ol’ Nick was concerned about lack of space there,
So dodging the planes he shouted “What Ho!
“I’ll team up with Vince to say no to Heathrow.”
And on that night before Christmas when the Baron appeared,
He dressed just like Santa, complete with white beard,
But his mistrust of anything connected with red,
Meant a royal blue outfit was used in its stead.
“Who will sort out this town?” he cried out in despair,
As his sleigh held a holding pattern high in the air,
When I consult the people, they must listen to me,
(Which sounded like the last guy, that Lib-Dem Lourie.)
He passed houses and shops, with his load of good cheer,
Across Twickenham, St Mags, Strawberry Hill and while here,
To his Riverside Councillors he gave out the call,
But one had defected to UKIP, another to Cornwall.
When he finally landed, he went straight to his work,
Filled Twickenham’s stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Gave a Baronial nod and up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh and to his remaining Councillors whistled,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them all cry, ‘ere they flew back to their seats,
“Happy Christmas to all! And enjoy your Twickmas treats!”
* The proper version by Clement Clarke Moore
Why not add your own Twickenham Festive verse below?
And finally… Thank you (yes, you) for reading this site over the last year. We hope you enjoy it, or at least find it informative and occasionally entertaining. From all the team here at twickerati, from the humblest cub reporter to the senior editorial executive board we wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.