SENATORS’ STATEMENTS — Expression of Good Wishes for the Season

Honourable senators:

’Twas months before Christmas.

When all through the House,

Not an MP was sitting —

not even a mouse,

Not even a mouse.

The writ had dropped; all legislation was stopped;

But senators worked on, for our duties don’t drop.

We keep calm, keep steady, keep sober of mind —

The Upper House carries on

— even when others unwind.

An election was coming, the polls shouted, “Pierre!”

But Carney replied:

“Not so fast

— I’m the rightful heir.”

“Elbows up!” he declared with partisan glee.

“Canada — never!

— the fifty-first state we shall be.”

When voting was over, the Libs scraped a minority;

Senators sighed deeply —

ah, what a life, what uncertainty.

The Forty-fifth launch with a bill to build Canada.

Cutting red tape and administrative yadda yadda.

Premiers lined up for more money from feds.

With visions of megaprojects dancing in their heads.

The PM said internal trade will grow,

But I still can’t buy B.C. wine at the LCBO.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow

Gave the lustre of midday to objects below.

When out in the Rockies there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to the chamber I flew like a flash

Looking for the bills

We still had to hash.

When to my wondering eyes should appear.

Yet another pipeline project to the coast. Oh, dear!

With a PM determined to diversify.

I knew he would travel far,

to look for allies

And court new friends in whom we rely —

since

America, alas,

no longer stands by.

More rapid than eagles Trump’s tariffs then came.

On steel, on lumber, on aluminum — the same.

“Now Hegseth! Now Hoekstra! Now Bessent! Now Rubio!

Make sure you know your

teachings from Monroe.

Will CUSMA survive this American caprice?

Will the agreement soon be resting in peace?

So, to Asia and Africa and Europe we’ll go.

And Latin America, too, for business to grow.

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof,

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof;

As I lifted my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney a budget tumbled — about a year late in coming to ground.

The government promised more capital spending;

The PBO murmured:

“That’s what I call ‘creative accounting’.”

Can we still trust our fiscal anchors?

No, I’m not talking about a ban on oil tankers.

And Minister Champagne —

he sure is no St. Nick;

This budget has few gifts from which to pick.

Spending on arms will rise up and up —

$12 billion more this year, for what, for what?

There’s more money for dental care too;

If you need a root canal, there’s money for you.

We welcome new leaders across the chamber;

We look to them to steer us from danger.

An independent Senate we vow to defend.

Not the House of Commons to pretend.

And as we spring to our sleighs and give a quick whistle,

Before we fly away

— like the down of a thistle,

We await the Speaker’s blessing ere she slips from our sight:

“The Senate stands adjourned to 2026.

Good night,

good night!”