‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ Sandringham House,
Not a Middleton was stirring, not one single louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But none for Meghan Markle who wouldn’t be there;
The royals were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of taxpayer funding danc’d in their heads,
And the Queen in her crown, and Philip in his cap,
Probably muttered, “I’m too old for this crap”-
When all through the tabloids there arose such a clatter,
Prince Harry’s romance hardly a private matter.
Away to the press Meghan’s relatives flew like a flash,
Selling old photos and videos for quick easy cash.
The American actress on a scarcely watched show,
Was attacked on social media as a fame-hungry hoe;
When what on Blind Gossip should appear,
But a hinted campaign to portray Meghan as saint of the year,
With pr reps at the ready to lay it on thick,
That whole demure duchess candidate shtick.
Little had been known about Prince Harry’s new flame,
And rapidly she became 2016’s most Googled actress name,
A porn site had a 1430% increase in searches for the vixen,
Who has been called by some a modern Wallis Simpson:
“Divorced, American, sex scenes, not suitable at all!”
Critics proclaimed her social media posts took gall.
Instagram bracelets and the initials necklace really don’t fly,
For romantically involved adults in the public eye.
But at least Harry will be at Sandringham, unlike William and Kate, too,
Who will be spending Christmas at Bucklebury, breaking tradition anew.
But even as the Cambridges disappear out of sight,
It still won’t be as bad as when William made the staff watch Twilight.
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.