24 DECEMBER 1988, Page 70

The Apparition

Down at the bottom of my bed Was Herod, standing on his head. He waved his big feet in the air. I heard him cry It isn't fair— if I'd known then what now I know About that little so-and-so I'd be the right way up tonight And walking tall and clothed in light Instead of this. I heard him groan. Those feet looked terribly alone As if, for all his loud self-mocking, They'd never fit my Christmas stocking.

John Mole