An Inquisitor in her trappings,
Receives a hat of wide brim
So many wax burning holders
You'd think it a candleaubrum
A Governor and psyker who were floored,
Thought themselves hidden, Receive a sweater or two,
The first says 'Poor Man's High Lord',
The other is covered in symbols taboo
A family awakes, full of daytime cheer
Only to find presents wrapped with care
A girl receives a beast she holds dear
A baby gets a piece of coal with little flare
Now to go to places where the gods do not hop
In da fighty place, every boy and grot
Gets a brand new weapon to shoot or chop
All sure to be used quite a lot
In empty spires that lack souls,
A family soon to gain one more
Receives a small stack of books
Including one with dad puns galore
In a place dark and deep and quiet,
There isn't a sound, though the occupants riot
An Eversor and a Rubric, even a Chaos Spawn
All receive gifts too, though they're something of a bomb
Who knows why it happens
It's just one of those things
A mystery for the ages
A mystery of glad tidings