A Very Merlin Christmas Poem
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all though the castle,
Not a creature was stirring, except one silly rascal:
Merlin, who, like year after year,
Was guarding his prince from unseasonal bad cheer.
Because, unlike every other soul in the land,
All the wicked sorcerers had waited and planned
To cast a spell most evil and clever
To rid themselves of Pendragon forever and ever.
Their fires on the hill had Merlin alerted,
Except for the guards, with whom he had flirted,
Who said it was just people burning Yule logs,
Or maybe some Willo-the-Wisps on the bogs.
But Merlin was sceptical, when he looked for himself,
Fearing that Christmas was bad for his health.
He knew something was up, but he didn't know what,
So he asked his friend Gaius, who knew quite a lot.
He listened to Merlin, his face one big frown,
But Merlin was anxious not to let Arthur down.
"The Prince must not die!" Gaius intoned,
"Use this seasonal disguise, which I have been loaned."
So it was that Merlin, considerably cheered,
Came to be sitting outside in a beard.
The sorcerers, who were, by this time, quite merry,
Having been at the wine and the pie and the sherry,
Wandered into the castle, singing badly and loudly,
Getting the words wrong, but doing so proudly.
Windows started to open, heads poking out,
Wanting to see what the fuss was about.
Even Uther came out and gave Merlin a fright,
But he thought they were carollers, so that was all right.
After a rousing rendition of 'Hark the Herald',
In which Arthur was not very greatly imperilled,
The revellers meandered each back to their home,
Leaving Merlin, quite confused and alone.
"Another year's work," to himself Merlin said,
And went back home to his nice warm bed.
On Christmas morning, Arthur opened his gifts,
Which included a bow, three books and two shifts,
Quite unaware of Merlin's hectic night,
Stopping his life being snuffed out like a light.
"Come on, Merlin," said Arthur. "Look in your stocking."
But Merlin was worried there'd be imminent mocking.
"What's in it?" he asked, scared of Arthur's big grin,
Even more so of his stocking and the presents within.
"Hurry up," said Arthur, stirring his porridge.
So Merlin, unwillingly, plucked up the courage,
Reached into the stocking and, with a nervous laugh,
Grasped something firmly, and pulled out...a scarf!
"I thought that you hated them! When I wear them, you moan."
"Well, against my will, upon me they've grown."
And so it was that Christmas, the court arranged,
Full of well-wishers, lords and the family estranged,
That the Pendragons sat down for their Christmas dinner,
And gave up the hope of ever getting any thinner.
Arthur turned to Merlin, passed Uther the pheasant,
And said, "So how do you like your present?"
"I love it," said Merlin. "I'll wear it as long as I'm able."
And for the rest of the meal, they held hands under the table.
Not a creature was stirring, except one silly rascal:
Merlin, who, like year after year,
Was guarding his prince from unseasonal bad cheer.
Because, unlike every other soul in the land,
All the wicked sorcerers had waited and planned
To cast a spell most evil and clever
To rid themselves of Pendragon forever and ever.
Their fires on the hill had Merlin alerted,
Except for the guards, with whom he had flirted,
Who said it was just people burning Yule logs,
Or maybe some Willo-the-Wisps on the bogs.
But Merlin was sceptical, when he looked for himself,
Fearing that Christmas was bad for his health.
He knew something was up, but he didn't know what,
So he asked his friend Gaius, who knew quite a lot.
He listened to Merlin, his face one big frown,
But Merlin was anxious not to let Arthur down.
"The Prince must not die!" Gaius intoned,
"Use this seasonal disguise, which I have been loaned."
So it was that Merlin, considerably cheered,
Came to be sitting outside in a beard.
The sorcerers, who were, by this time, quite merry,
Having been at the wine and the pie and the sherry,
Wandered into the castle, singing badly and loudly,
Getting the words wrong, but doing so proudly.
Windows started to open, heads poking out,
Wanting to see what the fuss was about.
Even Uther came out and gave Merlin a fright,
But he thought they were carollers, so that was all right.
After a rousing rendition of 'Hark the Herald',
In which Arthur was not very greatly imperilled,
The revellers meandered each back to their home,
Leaving Merlin, quite confused and alone.
"Another year's work," to himself Merlin said,
And went back home to his nice warm bed.
On Christmas morning, Arthur opened his gifts,
Which included a bow, three books and two shifts,
Quite unaware of Merlin's hectic night,
Stopping his life being snuffed out like a light.
"Come on, Merlin," said Arthur. "Look in your stocking."
But Merlin was worried there'd be imminent mocking.
"What's in it?" he asked, scared of Arthur's big grin,
Even more so of his stocking and the presents within.
"Hurry up," said Arthur, stirring his porridge.
So Merlin, unwillingly, plucked up the courage,
Reached into the stocking and, with a nervous laugh,
Grasped something firmly, and pulled out...a scarf!
"I thought that you hated them! When I wear them, you moan."
"Well, against my will, upon me they've grown."
And so it was that Christmas, the court arranged,
Full of well-wishers, lords and the family estranged,
That the Pendragons sat down for their Christmas dinner,
And gave up the hope of ever getting any thinner.
Arthur turned to Merlin, passed Uther the pheasant,
And said, "So how do you like your present?"
"I love it," said Merlin. "I'll wear it as long as I'm able."
And for the rest of the meal, they held hands under the table.