'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the palace
Folk quaked and trembled, fearing King Henry's malice
The heads all rotted on London Bridge there
To cross Bluff King Hal not a soul would go dare!
Anne Boleyn had a kerchief instead of a cap
Draped 'round her shoulders for a lengthy dirt nap
And on Tower Green there arose such a clatter
Jane Rochford's sharp tongue doth no longer natter!
And what to the courtiers' eyes did appear
But old Margaret Pole, and lacking an ear!
Splattered on the breast of the new-fallen snows
The Howards' blue blood eddies and flows
"On Rochford! On Surrey! On Norfolk!" the king cried
"Step up, Anne and Catherine, 'tis time you all died!"
And laying a fat royal finger aside of his nose
Old Hal had a squizz at the nobles' death throes
When all severed heads had been rolled out of sight
He said "Methinks I'll shag that chinless wench this night!"
Jane Seymour, la Reine Sans Chin LOL
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