Christmas Without Angels

One Sunday I said

To my wife,

“Have you noticed there are no angels this Christmas?”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“This Christmas,” I said,

“Have you noticed there are no angels?”

“No angels?” she said.

“No.  Have you seen any angels?” I said.

“Can’t say that I’ve noticed,” she said.

And then we had some tea.


Some days later my wife said

To me,

“I see what you mean.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“About the angels,” she said.

“Oh,” I said.

“I haven’t seen any either:

Not on a Christmas card,

Not on a tree,

None in the papers,

None on TV…

I’ve looked.



We fell silent,

Contemplating Christmas without angels.


Then a single light bulb appeared over two heads

And in a twinkling

We were in the loft,

Opening up our

Big Box of Christmas Stuff.


Our cardboard-top-of-the-tree made-by-our-five-year-old-son-twenty-years-ago

Angel, was gone.


We rang the local radio station,

Tony Snell.  Breakfast Show,

And our angels were a throwaway item

Just before the sport.

By lunchtime it was proper in the news.

Nobody in Liverpool, it seems,

Had seen an angel this Christmas:

Nobody in Liverpool, it seems,

Had noticed they’d not noticed any angels until we noticed it.

By evening it was regional, on TV:

No Angels in northern England.


Next day,

Those nice, smiley people were reviewing

The papers on Breakfast TV.

The Times said:


The Daily Express said:


The Daily Mail said:



All over the country, strange things

Began to happen.

Newcastle lost its Angel of the North,

Monopoly boards across the land

Lost a square in Islington

And poor people, for dessert, just had Delight.

Wide-eyed, gap-toothed schoolchildren,

Earmarked for the part of angels

In a thousand Nativity plays,

Stayed cowering in their beds.


Elsewhere, too, there was panic.

Mrs Merkel, boss of Germany, couldn’t locate her first name.

In Venezuela, people went carackers

As the Angel Falls became a trickle.

Los Angeles briefly rioted

Before disappearing from the map.

Angel cakes disappeared from menus,

Even in the best hotels.


So the whole world over

Christmas was ruined.

And although no wars

Stopped and there were no Christmas football games,

Everyone agreed

That a world without angels

Was a world without joy.


On the credit side, that bloody Robbie Williams song was never heard again…

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Random poems, thoughts and blogs from Tony O'Neill