T’was the week before Christmas
And all through the House
No person was stirring, not even a mouse.
The files all secured, the phones on ‘transfer’
As the last pollies ran for a Commonwealth car.
The cleaners had come and the marble floors gleam
The tall Christmas tree is a fairy tale dream.
But no one’s around, to admire or surmise
But some tourists inquiring where Questacon lies.
Still, policemen on bicycles, coppers in cars
But the Parly Triangle’s as tranquil as Mars.
The good burghers of Canberra smile and go shopping
For this is the season when work is a-stopping.
But – further up north, on Sydney’s fair shore
The PM and spouse get acquainted once more.
And hopefully welcome this season of cheer
While bidding farewell to his godawful year.
Illustration: Parliament House.
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