The Spoonbill Generator

It's a long haul to Christmas, a long time to toil [TG]

Up and down the attic stairs for half a pint of oil [Roland]

We nonetheless do it, year in and year out [TG]

Some growing sturdier and some growing stout [Roland]

And all ending up in a box in the soil [P]

With the advent of calendars, days will rush past [TG]

Tripping on the cellar stair, blenching in the blast [Roland]

We know there's no reason, it's no kind of sense [TG]

And often the urge to resist is immense [Roland]

But finally futile: the die has been cast [TG]