The 12-ish days

On the first day of Christmas shopping my true love said to me,

'Let's eat porridge and go on Tuesday instead.'

On day number two of shopping, my true love said to me,

'Let's buy a wreath and eat some porridge and go to town later.'

On the third day of Christmas shopping my true love said to me,

'Let's buy thee French croissants, another wreath, eat some porridge and visit the mall tonight.'

On the fourth day of not Christmas shopping my true love said to me,

'Let's go calling on friends, eat our three French croissants, hang up the wreaths, skip the porridge and go to the pub instead.'

On the fifth day of Chrimbo spending my true love and I drank,

Five golden malts, four gin and tonics, three whiskey sours, two rum and cokes and had one blinding hangover.

On the bilious green day of Chrishmush, my true love said to me,

'Let's not drink today, it's Wednesday.' I said 'It's Thursday.' My blue love said, 'Thirsty? Let's go down the pub at 7:30. It's happy hour.'

That's where we lost six rhyming words, five syllable schemes, four iambic tetrameters, three small stanzas, two rhyming couplets and a rather rude limerick.

On the whatever day of Seasonal Greetings, my (who?) love said to me,

'We need seven wands a-waving and six peaches laying in a basket.'

I have no idea why.

On that day of Cringletime my clueless love fell off the trolley and bought:

A bowl of porridge, spread on a wreath; three hot cross buns; four or five bottles of booze; six peaches waving and seven wands a-swimming.

All in reverse order.

On the eighth day of Whenever, my jewel of a love said to me,

'Let's throw a party for the Milking Maids. They can have seven swans and six peaches, four or five bottles of beer, three French wotsits, two festive wreaths and a large bucket of porridge to eat.'

Not to mention partridges, pears and warbling carol singers.

On the ninth day of bending the credit card, my fool love said to me,

'I've invited the Leaping Lords heavy metal band to gig for the Milking Maids, so I had to invite ,' a deep breath, 'nine bopping teenagers.'

Silence.

On tenth day of Growing Debt, my %£@+# love said to me,

'The party's on tomorrow and there's ten bagpipers coming too.'

On the eleventh day of Nightmare Spending my spendthrift love said to me,

'The Leaping Lords have cancelled so the Dozen Drummers are covering. There's going to be a battle of the bands with the Ten Bag Pack. The teeny hoppers are camping in the garage with the Milking Maids and they've got lots of peaches, porridge and croissants to eat. I hid the five kegs of beer but the Dozen Drummers found it and are passed out in a shelter they made from wands and wreaths.

On the twelfth day of Xmas Cheer my new love said to me,

'Let's slope off and elope to Hawaii.'

On the thirteen day post Christmas, I was lying on the beach and my new, true love said to me,

'Is that a partridge in that palm tree?'

33 lines.