Christmas Poem Parody

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Write a Christmas poem parody of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, only write it about an unexpected guest who isn’t Santa.

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

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*Thanks to Writer’s Digest community member mickeyjenae for this prompt.

 

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206 thoughts on “Christmas Poem Parody

  1. Wolfgang Poe

    A Jonathan Walker Christmas

    Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my house
    Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
    My black leather coat was thrown over a chair,
    ‘cause no one would touch it, they wound’t even dare.

    My apprentice, Mikey, was staying the night,
    And I put up with his crap, cause the kid is alright.
    I had drank my last pot of coffee, and the kid had a Coke,
    (caffeine keeping me awake is really a joke).

    When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
    I grabbed my .44 and wand then went to see what was the matter.
    Away to the window I flew with a flash,
    Cause I sleep in the raw, wearing only my ‘stache.

    The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
    And the floor was colder than shit, like … 20 below!
    When, what to my frosted over eyes should appear,
    But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

    With a little blue glittering driver, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment it must be a freaking faery, well…shit.
    More rapid than unladen sparrows his coursers they came,
    And I leaned out the window and took careful aim!

    Now hitting a faery, can be harder than hell,
    So a paused for a moment before casting my spell.
    Choosing my binding, with well crafted care,
    I muttered, “Take that you bastard” as my spell flew through the air.

    As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
    My binding took his ass out as he flew through the sky.
    He let out a small squeak as he fell through the air,
    But he at least didn’t fall on the iron patio chair.

    There was a small thump, I heard on the roof
    And the scrambling and pawing of each little hoof.
    As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
    Through the bedroom door, Mikey came with a bound.

    He didn’t even pause, though I was in the nude,
    My streetwise apprentice was hardly a prude,
    “I heard something outside, Whiskey!” He said with a shout.
    And I thought about knocking his screaming ass out.

    His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
    His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
    As I slipped on a robe, I glanced at the pup,
    And thought “He seems to cheery. Something is up!”.

    Slipping down the stairs, with nary a sound,
    There was a tremor in the wards, so I began glancing around.
    No one gets through the wards on my home,
    Not dragons, nor spirits or even a pissed off gnome!

    And there in my livingroom sat the tiny blue elf,
    And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
    ‘Cause this little faery was someone I knew,
    Even though normally he was six foot two!.

    Cause Richard York, wizard vampire, had come to spread me some cheer,
    And was playing the pixie with a grin from ear to ear .
    And I heard him exclaim, without sounding to trite,
    “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

  2. snuzcook

    I have an idea, if anyone is still monitoring this prompt today and tomorrow. I am home recovering from the bug, so … boredom creates.

    How about we do a progressive creation? I’ll start us off and see where it goes? If we all reply on this comment, we can keep it in order:

    T’was the night before Christmas, and approaching the town
    A blizzard was threatening to blow the place down.
    The townsfolk all huddled, their houses shut tight,
    With the wind shrieking loudly there’d be no sleep that night.

      1. PromptPrincess13

        (Happy Holidays, everyone! And, @Snuzcook, feel better!)

        The storm raged as midnight approached,
        And the children cried, for on their joy the storm had encroached,
        “Through the snow our little house can’t be found,
        And so, Santy Clause can’t come to town.”

        1. Kerry Charlton

          Then all at once, to my wonder appeared

          A large Range Rover, Santa Claus steered

          He huffed and puffed and blew out the storm

          He entered my house, his body to warm

          1. Beautifulcherrytree

            ‘Twas the night before Christmas and I am secretly waiting nearby the Christmas tree looking for Santa to arrive. I am hoping to have a verbal confrontation with him to let him know how upset I am. I confronted my husband instead and it turned into a disaster.

          2. Critique

            Busted – we knew for our dearth of belief,
            He whistled and hunched near the blaze for relief,
            Then opened a knapsack that burgeoned with presents
            And filled every stocking – good cheer was the essence.

    1. snuzcook

      A noise in the corner revealed Uncle Ned
      Who’d snozzled a bottle instead of going to bed.
      “A Burglar!” He cried, grabbing up the old two-guage
      “Stop where you are!” He slurred in drunk rage.

      1. agnesjack

        But I in my PJs and Mama in her cap
        Tackled the bugger before he could snap.
        And Santa, the dear, feeling warm and quite jolly,
        Helped us bring Uncle to his bed, far from folly.

        1. jhowe

          With Mama and me back under the covers,
          It’d been several years since we had been lovers.
          But the need for body heat raised up the bar,
          I stoked Mama’s fire and performed like a star.

          1. frankd1100

            She must still have been freezing while I fell asleep.
            For into the bed, Elf Randy did creep.

            Nightgown, green tights, and bed clothes awry,
            I dreamed I heard Momma’s ecstatic cry.

            I smiled and dreamed that I had done well,
            But woke to the sound of the elf’s banging bell.

            I reached for his neck but Momma said, Hey!
            He’s my stocking stuffer, stay out of the way!

  3. Mc

    Twas the Night before Christmas and all through house every creature was stirring even the mouse.
    They lay restless in their beds waiting in the house.

    The cookies were crisp and the lights were all on.
    I was laying in my gown with the TV still on.

    Then a bolt of lightning suddenly shot through the sky
    And to my surprise, a light shimmed high…that not a roof top could hide.

    Although we waited for good old Saint Nick, it was not him
    But, the Lion of Judah who stood in the helm.
    He called each, one by one, saying
    “Come on home now my sons.”

    Their spirits floated by the light to their heavenly home resting, in front of my eyesight!

    I waited and waited as my children fluttered by.
    A scream of panic arose from my throat muttering.
    Did He pass me by?

    I watched the hole slowly close shut and streams of pain drifted down from my eyes.
    Why O why Lord did you pass me by?

    The thunder sounded loud with words echoing to the ground.
    “My child, My child, how I want you home but, you must stay and fight the war that must go on.”

    My heart hammered hard. “What did I do that I can not go with You?”
    “I attended church and sung your songs.”

    “You did indeed but, you did not truly believe in the One who can set you free.”
    “Words and habits do not fulfill the love of the heart that I hold dear.”

    “In my home you behaved as I required but, out in the world you did as they desired.”
    “This world is full of man’s sin and that is more acceptable than My Holy plan.”

    “Now Awake and rise and see what you must.”
    “Remember I love the lost as much as the just.”
    “This path you must take but do so this time in My Name’s sake.”

    My eyes opened to find the morning light.
    I ran to the children rooms who were asleep to my delight.
    A dream I had that would set my flight right.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        You can bet your last dollar on the revival of the spirit of Christmas, Frank. When society and their traditions fall under attack, society becomes stronger and will fight for the privilege of being free.

        I’m very comfortable living in the Lone Star State. If you’ll notice….. Nobody Messes With Texas. We have half the fire power in the country down here and we know how and when to use it.

      2. agnesjack

        I’m afraid I don’t quite know what “fire power” has to do with the spirit of Christmas (forgive me, KC), but for me, frankd, it is something that actually exists all year long. Several prompts back you quoted a friend who said that life can be a “vicious bastard.” Yes, that is quite true — but life can also be a gracious, loving, beautiful miracle. That, to me, is the spirit of Christmas.

        1. frankd1100

          Today’s my daughter’s birthday. I remember the second she was born, waiting for her little cry and the eternal bond of love that fired the instant she was placed in my arms. A, “gracious, loving, beautiful miracle.”

          Yes, Nancy, that is the spirit of Christmas… Thanks.

          1. Kerry Charlton

            Happy day after Christmas Frank. I also remember the first cry of my first daughter, my second daughter, my third daughter, and then the fourth daughter arruved, I felt four times blessed.

            When the baby of the family arrived, I looked into her blue eyes and realized that I was five times blessed with an entire gtrl’s basketball team and not a stranger there was.

            Eight granddaughters arrived, that made thirteen girls, thirteen straight in a row. What were the odds? My last grandchild was born with three older sisters to spoil him.

            His name is Jacob and onr thing I can tell you, he does understand girls.

  4. YamiMesse

    Twas the night before Christmas and right before bed
    Hailey said to her younger brother, Little Ted

    You know Ted, little brother about Santa Claus?
    You know Ted, little brother that history’s off?

    Santa didn’t start as a jolly old guy.
    “Santa” said Hailey, “Started off as a Spy”

    When you were in the bed sleeping he snuck in your home
    He dropped off a present better known as a drone.

    It snuck under cupboards it snuck under beds
    Sometimes, little brother, it snuck into heads.

    This drone took all the information it could,
    It implanted cameras on the doors, in the wood

    These cameras it left were used, yes to spy.
    Because Santa was not what you’d call, a “Standup Kinda Guy.”

    Once these drones completed their mission at night
    These drones would fly back,
    Back to the north side.

    They’d report all their findings to their marketing team
    And come up with new traps, new “deals” and new schemes.

    The santa you know was a lot different then,
    The Santa who was grew too old, grew too thin.

    The companies replaced him with a rather swell guy
    Although there’s no way to know if he too is a spy….

  5. robcat22

    Memories of Christmas 2011, which I barely survived but still managed to render in poem. I call this piece:

    “St. Nick Still Owes Me a New Gutter”

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
    were sounds of me whining ’bout what I’d caught from my spouse;
    It seems she’d gotten sick and decided to share,
    All because I hadn’t shown enough care;
    The children still slept all snug in their beds,
    While fevered hallucinations danced in my head,
    With mama trying not to hurl, her head in her hands,
    And me shiv’ring with chills, we attempted to nap-
    When from deep in my gut there arose such a clatter,
    I sprang from my bed to the sink b’fore the splatter.
    And away to the window she tore with a flash,
    In hopes that fresh air would hold her lunch back.
    Then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
    The prancing and pawing of wee tiny hooves.
    As I wiped free my cheek of the drool running down,
    From the chimney St. Nicholas lept with a bound.
    He spoke not a word when he saw my condition,
    But grabbed the cookies and milk as he fled through the kitchen;
    He sprang to his sleigh yelling, “Go team, code red!”
    And knocked part of the gutter from the roof as they fled.
    And I heard him exclaim ere he drove through the night-
    Merry Christmas to all, but stay away from that guy!

  6. LaxIreland

    A Belfast Christmas.

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and Joseph was still dead –
    Kidnapped and tortured, a bullet to the head.

    Found in a field, hands tied behind his back
    Showing signs of Christmas torture, the blue and the black.

    And somewhere out in Derry, Martin sat beside his tree
    With a book, some cake, and a nice cup of tea.

    Gerry, he lay sleeping at a quarter after nine,
    Dreaming of his brother – the one doing time.

    And the one who’d fired the bullet, his daughter coming home
    And he slightly shocked at how her own daughter’d grown.

    And Joe’s dad, Frank, slumped in his chair
    Looking back at Joe’s death, what was and wasn’t fair.

    He wakes up, his doorbell rings, the first time in years.
    His daughter lets him meet her kids, and so begin the tears.

    ———

    Apologies in advance, it’s probably slightly morbid for this time of year but what the hell. It’s based on my own family history too, so whilst being slightly – ok, very – morbid, it just felt like the thing to write.

    And first time poster, too – so Merry Christmas everyone!

  7. robcat22

    I wrote this a couple years ago. I can laugh about it now, but that was a BRUTAL Christmas!

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
    were sounds of me whining ’bout what I’d caught from my spouse;
    It seems she’d gotten sick and decided to share,
    All because I hadn’t shown enough care;
    The children still slept all snug in their beds,
    While fevered hallucinations danced in my head,
    With mama trying not to hurl, her head in her hands,
    And me shiv’ring with chills, we attempted to nap-
    When from deep in my gut there arose such a clatter,
    I sprang from my bed to the sink b’fore the splatter.
    And away to the window she tore with a flash,
    In hopes that fresh air would hold her lunch back.
    Then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
    The prancing and pawing of wee tiny hooves.
    As I wiped free my cheek of the drool running down,
    From the chimney St. Nicholas lept with a bound.
    He spoke not a word when he saw my condition,
    But grabbed the cookies and milk as he fled through the kitchen;
    He sprang to his sleigh yelling, “Go team, code red!”
    And knocked part of the gutter from the roof as they fled.
    And I heard him exclaim ere he drove through the night-
    Merry Christmas to all, but stay away from that guy!

  8. dgship1

    At The Church Before Christmas

    Twas a night before Christmas, and all through the church
    No one was quite stirring, but a bat from his perch.
    The carols were ready, the books in their racks
    My wife had prepared her variety of snacks.

    The People were yet to arrive to the service
    My mind was racing, and I was a little bit nervous.
    After many years it never seems quite down pat
    Would the sermon touch hearts or simply fall flat.

    We wondered who would come out on this night
    Hoping that all would be pleasing and really quite right.
    The music began in the background to play
    It was soon time to begin, with little delay.

    Soon People began to come through door
    The snow on their feet tracking up our clean floor.
    Everyone seemed so happy, and joyful in deed
    The time had now come for the service to precede.

    Everyone was preparing to sing the first song
    The guitar player was already strumming along.
    The carols proclaiming of a Savior’s birth
    Who because of His love came down to the earth.

    When tree on the stage suddenly started to quake
    It swayed and the ornaments moved with a shake.
    I watched with great horror at the sight which followed
    No more would this night seem really very hallowed.

    A scream could be heard from the very back row
    And soon some of the folks were preparing to go.
    The little winged fiend who had woke from his sleep
    Made some women scream and one child weep

    Oh, what a disaster I thought deep inside
    How I wanted to run, how I wished I could hide
    The holy evening in this sacred house
    Was now being ruined by one flying mouse.

    Oh what could we do, and what could I say
    Oh how could I calm the great disastrous fray.
    And then from the side came our trusted trustee
    Who was smiling and laughing with unmistakable glee.

    The small little menace flew over my head
    And into a coat which the trustee held widespread.
    Our song leader simply continued singing his tune
    Even while the whole seen made me feel like a buffoon.

    When it was all over, all said and all done
    We eventually returned to the song we’d begun.
    With order returned and all nearly set right
    We continued to sing of that silent night.

    And what can we learn from our short little tale
    Never let it be said any service is stale.
    For we never quite know as we begin
    Just quite how the service will be in the end

    Even the greatest of plans often go awry
    When upon our own lives we do fully rely
    Prepare as you will, prepare as you might
    In the end only God can make all go right.

  9. FourOaksStories

    It’s three nights before Christmas and out at Four Oaks
    The wind is a-howling, the fire pit smokes
    The Baileys is waiting for coffee to brew
    In a Dutch oven bubbles a savory stew

    I’m humming and poking at embers and ash
    When from deep in the forest I hear a great crash!
    If something is out there to give me a fright
    It will see what I’m made of. I’ll put up a fight!

    Into the shadows I step quietly
    With my axe at my side, and what do I see?
    But a monstrous Thing half obscured by a tree!
    With an eye that glows red and looks right at me!

    What should I do? Should I strike? Should I run?
    Should I offer it stew? Would it eat a bun?
    As I ponder these questions imagine my shock
    When the Thing heaves a sigh and commences to talk.

    In a whisper it says, “You’re tall for an elf.”
    It takes me a bit to recover myself.
    For it’s plain to see as the strange Thing draws near
    It’s no monster at all! It’s Rudolph the Reindeer!

    I notice he’s staring rather intently
    At the axe in my hand, so I set it down gently
    A smile spreads over his sweet furry face
    I ask, “How in the world did you come to this place?”

    “I was practicing flying and following my nose
    When I began to feel sleepy and started to doze.
    I awoke to discover I’d lost altitude
    I’m sorry to startle, didn’t mean to be rude.
    If you’ll just point me North, I’ll be on my way,
    And the children will have presents come Christmas Day.”

    “I know where to direct you,” I say. “See that star?
    It will guide you North. It will take you far.
    But before we bid each other adieu,
    Tell me—are you hungry? Would you like some warm stew?”

    His nose glares bright red; his agitation grows great
    At the sight of the boiling pot on the grate
    And I realize then that the Thing I’d held grim
    Had been more scared of me than I’d been of him

    I laugh loud as Santa: “Ho ho! Ho ho ho!
    I see there is something that you need to know.
    You’ve clearly mistaken me for a barbarian.
    But that’s not venison stew. That’s all vegetarian.”

    Now you may not believe that my story is true
    That we shared a fine feast and then off he flew
    But last night I learned something I never knew
    And Rudolph said I could share it with you

    While he’s grateful that children mean him to be fed
    And leave cookies and carrots before they go to bed
    As together we sat, the reindeer and I
    He told me he’d much prefer blueberry pie

  10. Dan Singman

    A Little Tight Before Christmas

    Twas’ the night before Christmas, tucked in our abode
    TiVo-ing The Voice, season’s last episode
    The contestants were trashing good songs without care
    Prancing around in their new-sculpted hair

    Way over-the-top, it was a shameless display
    Celine-ing their songs in that gratuitous way.
    And poor Ma in her ‘kerchief, was driven to tears,
    I retreated to Netflix, cursing my ears.

    We scrolled through the menu and found a good flick
    An old Yule-Tide classic that would do the trick
    Starring good-natured Buddy, straight from the North Pole
    Singing to save Christmas –so good for the soul.

    Then from somewhere out front there arose such a sound,
    I peered through the blinds to see what had gone down.
    A bright red Ferrrari was stuck deep in the snow,
    Driver encrusted, from his head to his toe.

    I invited him in – it’s what a good elf does
    (Not only that, I had a respectable buzz)
    Then, what to my beer blurred eyes should appear?
    Will Ferrell himself, wearing muffs on his ears.

    All of his clothes were soaked through from digging in snow
    So I went to find dry ones, while he called for a tow.
    What I found on the shelf, made me let out a gasp
    An XL elf suit, from two Halloweens past.

    Ask the star to wear it, I really didn’t know
    Good sense said put it back, but the beer said “No”
    So I returned with the costume, expecting his ire
    But Will was quite affable, and donned the attire.

    He chatted a while and we drank several beers
    Then mugged for some shots (our Christmas cards next year)
    Mr. Ferrell posed with us both, wearing the elf cap
    And for my favorite of all, he sat in my lap.

    Then we played gin rummy and a few other games
    Having great fun when the truck finally came.
    And he heard us exclaim as they drove out of sight
    A sequel to Elf, would be just about right.

    Jim McInvale

  11. rapidbutterly

    Twas the night before Christmas and all through the rooms
    children lay restless for punishments loomed

    They awaited a gift, not from under the tree
    This present was special, from uncle Joseph over seas

    The tree stood ready, last minute presents wrapped
    Christmas perfection lay waiting and our energy zapped

    We lay on the sofa, mom and dads time to veg-out
    When from the apartment above we heard a scream and a shout

    I rushed to the door, now please don’t condemn
    I had to see the scene for myself, nosey is just who I am

    Ever so slightly I cracked the door,just a little peek
    The source of the commotion was all I did seek

    I threw the door open not believing the sight
    An inebriated man fitting the neighbor with all of his might

    “Let me in” he shouted with another shove
    I’m here to see the boys and my little dove

    My husband jumped up at the sound of his voice
    For him there was no other choice

    Through the door to the fight my husband did race
    To save the drunk man in this very strange case

    Now let me explain, so you can fully see
    The drunk man was my brother Joseph from over seas

    Now inside he looked at me and said”My darling sister I must confess
    I ordered some drinks in flight, a bit in excess

    I’m scared to fly, so I drank since I could not pace
    And now I’m afraid that I’m rather shit-faced

    Where are the little ones? I have surprises for all.”
    Hearing him speak, children came running from down the hall

    “Come Vince, come Aiden, come Ruben and my little dove
    Come to your uncle Joseph my darling loves”

    We stayed up late and on Christmas our family was finally together
    His surprise couldn’t have been much better

  12. frankd1100

    Another night before Christmas and all through the city,
    They paid off the ‘Collector’ a man without pity.

    Their signals were broadcast so he wouldn’t see,
    In hopes of a hero, or possibly three.

    Icy dark ’neath a bridge, a thick gurgled cough,
    As a wretch of a giant emerged from the slough.

    Sleepers disturbed in the damp, frigid hole,
    Burrowed deeper in boxboard in fear of the troll.

    Plowing through detritus of lives up above,
    To the top, upon Broadway, a heart emptied of love.

    Numb to the cold, a delirium high,
    The ‘Wretch’ danced about, below a white sky.

    He laughed at the snowfall and tore off his jacket,
    Then screamed – folks still hear it – ‘Just watch, I can hack it!”

    Along sidewalks he ran without destination,
    Burning with rage at his God’s creation.

    From a doorway the ‘Collector’ at 28th and Lex,
    Stepped into the path of the ‘Wretch’ in a hex.

    With not a word uttered, he crushed the fat neck,
    The ‘Collector’ went down, his suit all a’wreck.

    None cheered the hero though his act was so grand,
    Not one dared stop to offer a hand.

    The lice ridden rag man ran on through the borough,
    Like a bird on a tree branch devoid of self sorrow.

    The cop at Grand Central put a bullet in his brain,
    Afraid he’d come to bomb the last train.

    The ‘Wretch’s’ voice was loud, his last words rang clear,
    “You’ve buried Christmas, ya’ll, best dread the New Year.”

    1. jhowe

      I don’t know much about poetry, but this one seems to have almost perfect timing, if timing is the right word. I loved the urban theme with the wretch and the collector and the battle. Too bad for the shooting for who’s to battle the collector’s predecessor?

    2. agnesjack

      You’ve created a very atmospheric, though dark, story, frankd. New York has been my home for many years, and your story made me think of the times in the 70s when the city was such a mess. I actually didn’t know who to feel sorry for, the Collector or the Wretch. Perhaps my sympathy goes to the great city of Manhattan, which has seen such sorrow.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Frank, you’ve crafted a haunting response to the prompt. I really felt sorry for the Wretch. He did what he could to help. Either way, it’s a jewel of a write. Glad to see you back for a while.

  13. Lyrical

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, in two-thousand and thirteen,
    It was time for my evening bedtime routine,
    I locked all the doors and turned out the light,
    and headed upstairs for a long winters night.

    I checked on the children who were fast asleep,
    They made not a sound, not even a peep.
    I dressed in my red and green flannel gown,
    And was just about ready to lay my head down.

    I was feeling alone and started to cry,
    When there arose a commotion. Was it a passerby?
    I sprang to the window to see what was going on,
    And looked down through the glass at my snowy front lawn.

    For a moment I thought I saw Santa in his sleigh,
    Or was it the savior asleep in the hay?
    No, maybe it was the Grinch come to steal our stuff,
    So I threw open the window in one maddening huff!

    And what to my wondering eyes did I see,
    Was it Frosty the snowman looking at me?
    Or was it the ghost of Christmas Future, Present, or Past?
    Their identity was baffling me. How long would this last?

    I peered out again with my eyes in a squint,
    Looking for anything that would give me a hint.
    Maybe this is all just a very bad dream,
    “Who ARE you”! I bellowed with a militant scream.

    “It’s ME”said a voice travelling up through the air,
    Then I raced down the stairs just as fast as I dare,
    I flung open the door, my arms opened wide,
    “You’ve come home, you’ve come home!” I gleefully cried.

    “Children come quick, your papa is here!”
    And they rose from their beds with laughter and cheer.
    Then we snuggled together by the fire that eve,
    So thankful our soldier had been given his leave.

    I am sure I heard angels in their heavenly choir.
    While the others all dozed in the glow of the fire.
    And then I was startled by a curious tone,
    A whine, or a cry, a tiny little moan.

    As I turned around slowly to have a look-see,
    I saw a furry head as cute as could be.
    And out of a duffel bag by the big front door,
    Emerged a small puppy who I’d not seen before,

    He had floppy ears and adorable eyes,
    His fur was all golden, so tiny in size.
    “Come here” I beckoned so as not to wake the rest,
    “Where did you come from my unexpected guest?”

    And as he grew closer, I noticed his paws,
    Were as white as the beard on dear Santa Claus.
    He jumped up on the sofa with amazing ease,
    And curled right up upon my knees.

    I patted his head as he settled right in
    And sat ever so still, my lips in a grin.
    I knew in a heartbeat there was nothing amiss,
    I could not imagine a better Christmas than this.

    And just as I started to catch forty winks,
    I heard sounds on the rooftop like jangles and clinks,
    I saw visions of reindeer and elves in the snow,
    “Happy Christmas to all, HO HO HO!”

  14. Dan Singman

    A Little Tight Before Christmas

    Twas’ the night before Christmas, tucked in our abode
    TiVo-ing The Voice, season’s last episode
    The contestants were trashing good songs without care
    Prancing around, and sporting new-sculpted hair

    Way over-the-top, it was a shameless display
    Celine-ing their songs in that gratuitous way.
    And poor Ma in her ‘kerchief, was driven to tears,
    I retreated to Netflix, cursing my ears.

    We scrolled through the menu and found a good flick
    An old Yule-Tide classic that would do the trick
    Starring good-natured Buddy, straight from the North Pole
    Singing to save Christmas –so good for the soul.

    Then from somewhere out front there arose such a sound,
    I peered through the blinds to see what had gone down.
    A bright red Ferrrari was stuck deep in the snow,
    Driver encrusted, from his head to his toe.

    I invited him in – it’s what a good elf does
    (Not only that, I had a respectable buzz)
    Then, what to my beer blurred eyes should appear?
    Will Ferrell himself, wearing muffs on his ears.

    All of his clothes were soaked through from digging in snow
    So I went to find dry ones, while he called for a tow.
    What I found on the shelf, made me let out a gasp
    An XL elf suit, from two Halloweens past.

    Ask the star to wear it, I really didn’t know
    Good sense said put it back, but the beer said “No”
    So I returned with the costume, expecting his ire
    But Will was quite affable, and donned the attire.

    He chatted a while and we drank several beers
    Then mugged for some shots (our Christmas cards next year)
    Mr. Ferrell posed with us both, wearing the elf cap
    And for my favorite of all, he sat in my lap.

    Then we played gin rummy and a few other games
    Having great fun ’till the truck finally came.
    And he heard us exclaim as they drove out of sight
    A sequel to Elf, would be just about right.

    Jim McInvale

  15. Observer Tim

    ‘Tis the night before Christmas, not a sound do I hear;
    My apartment is empty, there is no one else here.
    A stocking is hung by the window with care
    Though I knew in the morning it still shall be bare.
    A tree in the corner, a wreath on the door,
    And a single wrapped present, from me, on the floor.
    I lie on my bed and I choke back a tear,
    Thank God that this Christmas is just once a year.
    The darkness draws in, like it does every night;
    I remember again why my world isn’t right,
    “You’re just feeling shy, not depressed or deficient;
    No medicine’s needed, your will is sufficient.
    Now pull up your socks, go on out and make friends,
    And you’ll see just how quickly this little thing ends.”
    But the panic attack, it still comes anyway;
    I cannot go out there, so inside I must stay
    And I long for the people that I might have seen
    While I cower in bed and hope no-one comes in.
    But the ones that I meet, they can tell I’m not right,
    And so once again I’m alone in the night.
    In the morning I’ll put on my mask and go out
    And pretend that I’m happy and travel about,
    And I’ll say ‘Merry Christmas’ to all that I know;
    Though they terrify me, not a bit will I show.
    And I’ll take the invite to the feast they have planned
    And I’ll try to cringe when they offer their hand.
    I know they mean well, they want me to be glad;
    In this holiday season no one should be sad.
    So they pull down my fortress, drag me out of my shell,
    And wish me good cheer while they put me through hell.
    For the company had in one day of largesse
    Is just showing me things that I cannot possess.
    And when Christmas day’s gone and they’re finished with me
    I will cry out for more, but alone I’ll still be.
    So I lie in my bed with my worry and fear,
    ‘Tis the night before Christmas, not a sound do I hear.

    1. jhowe

      What a heart wrenching tale. You pulled off this guy’s disorders so well. I loved how he tries to blame shyness and how he tries to justify not taking his medication. You about did me in with the lone wrapped present.

    2. agnesjack

      So very sad, Tim. The single present got me, too, and the person telling him that he just needs to “pull up his socks” and go out. Panic attacks and agoraphobia, cannot just be willed away.

      1. Critique

        I think you nailed the desperation/mental illness in this this individual very well.
        The sad reality is there are many who struggle with this to various degrees.

        1. Kerry Charlton

          I totally agree with the other’s Tim. You craft your stories with the ease of a magician. I fuss, worry and mess with mine. Someday, I won’t.

          Merry Christmas

    3. Observer Tim

      Thanks, folks. This was written while I was coming down from an anxiety attack, so if it rings true there’s a reason (I suffer from athazagoraphobia). Mercifully, my attacks don’t often last more than a few hours and I know the most likely triggers. Others are not so fortunate, and that is why we must always stand ready with understanding and compassion.

      Merry Christmas to all.

      1. agnesjack

        I had to look up athazagoraphobia. I experienced severe anxiety attacks several years ago, which, thankfully, subsided eventually, so my heart goes out to you and others who have to live with them.

        All the best to you, Tim, and Merry Christmas.

  16. Lyrical

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, in two-thousand and thirteen,
    It was time for my evening bedtime routine,
    I locked all the doors and turned out the light,
    and headed upstairs for a long winters night.

    I checked on the children who were fast asleep,
    They made not a sound, not even a peep.
    I dressed in my red and green flannel gown,
    And was just about ready to lay my head down.

    I was feeling alone and started to cry,
    When there arose a commotion. Was it a passerby?
    I sprang to the window to see what was going on,
    And looked down through the glass at my snowy front lawn.

    For a moment I thought I saw Santa in his sleigh,
    Or was it the savior asleep in the hay?
    No, maybe it was the Grinch come to steal our stuff,
    So I threw open the window in one maddening huff!

    And what to my wondering eyes did I see,
    Was it Frosty the snowman looking at me?
    Or was it the ghost of Christmas Future, Present, or Past?
    Their identity was baffling me. How long would this last?

    I peered out again with my eyes in a squint
    Looking for anything that would give me a hint.
    Maybe this is all just a very bad dream,
    “Who ARE you”! I bellowed with a militant scream.

    “It’s ME”said a voice travelling up through the air,
    Then I raced down the stairs just as fast as I dare,
    I flung open the door, my arms opened wide,
    “You’ve come home, you’ve come home!” I gleefully cried.

    “Children come quick, your papa is here!”
    And they rose from their beds with laughter and cheer.
    Then we snuggled together by the fire that eve,
    So thankful our soldier had been given his leave.

    I am sure I heard angels in their heavenly choir.
    While the others all dozed in the glow of the fire.
    And then I was startled by a curious tone,
    A whine, or a cry, a tiny little moan.

    As I turned around slowly to have a look-see,
    I saw a furry head as cute as could be.
    And out of a duffel bag by the big front door,
    Emerged a small puppy who I’d not seen before,

    He had floppy ears and adorable eyes,
    His fur was all golden, so tiny in size.
    “Come here” I beckoned so as not to wake the rest,
    “Where did you come from my unexpected guest?”

    And as he grew closer, I noticed his paws,
    Were as white as the beard on dear Santa Claus.
    He jumped up on the sofa with amazing ease,
    And curled right up upon my knees.

    I patted his head as he settled right in
    And sat ever so still, my lips in a grin.
    I knew in a heartbeat there was nothing amiss,
    I could not imagine a better Christmas than this.

    And just as I started to catch forty winks,
    I heard sounds on the rooftop like jangles and clinks,
    I saw visions of reindeer and elves in the snow,
    “Happy Christmas to all, HO HO HO!”

  17. Lyrical

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, in two-thousand and thirteen,
    It was time for my evening bedtime routine,
    I locked all the doors and turned out the light,
    and headed upstairs for a long winters night.
    I checked on the children who were fast asleep,
    They made not a sound, not even a peep.
    I dressed in my red and green flannel gown,
    And was just about ready to lay my head down.
    I was feeling alone and started to cry,
    When there arose a commotion. Was it a passerby?
    I sprang to the window to see what was going on,
    And looked down through the glass at my snowy front lawn.
    For a moment I thought I saw Santa in his sleigh,
    Or was it the savior asleep in the hay?
    No, maybe it was the Grinch come to steal our stuff,
    So I threw open the window in one maddening huff!
    And what to my wondering eyes did I see,
    Was it Frosty the snowman looking at me?
    Or was it the ghost of Christmas Future, Present, or Past?
    Their identity was baffling me. How long would this last?
    I peered out again with my eyes in a squint,
    Looking for anything that would give me a hint.
    Maybe this is all just a very bad dream,
    “Who ARE you”! I bellowed with a militant scream.

    “It’s ME”said a voice travelling up through the air,
    Then I raced down the stairs just as fast as I dare,
    I flung open the door, my arms opened wide,
    “You’ve come home, you’ve come home!” I gleefully cried.
    “Children come quick, your papa is here!”
    And they rose from their beds with laughter and cheer.
    Then we snuggled together by the fire that eve,
    So thankful our soldier had been given his leave.
    I am sure I heard angels in their heavenly choir.
    While the others all dozed in the glow of the fire.
    And then I was startled by a curious tone,
    A whine, or a cry, a tiny little moan.
    As I turned around slowly to have a look-see,
    I saw a furry head as cute as could be.
    And out of a duffel bag by the big front door,
    Emerged a small puppy who I’d not seen before,
    He had floppy ears and adorable eyes,
    His fur was all golden, so tiny in size.
    “Come here” I beckoned so as not to wake the rest,
    “Where did you come from my unexpected guest?”
    And as he grew closer, I noticed his paws,
    Were as white as the beard on dear Santa Claus.
    He jumped up on the sofa with amazing ease,
    And curled right up upon my knees.
    I patted his head as he settled right in
    And sat ever so still, my lips in a grin.
    I knew in a heartbeat there was nothing amiss,
    I could not imagine a better Christmas than this.
    And just as I started to catch forty winks,
    I heard sounds on the rooftop like jangles and clinks,
    I saw visions of reindeer and elves in the snow,
    “Happy Christmas to all, HO HO HO!”

  18. Critique

     Twas the night before Christmas I went to the store
    To buy a few fixings for my dinner of four.
    Heartened to be next in line, soon away from the noise
    I noticed the woman in front, her cart held some toys.

    ‘It’s declined’ the matronly clerk in a gentle voice said.
    The woman looked frazzled her cheeks flaming red
    She fumbled in her purse “The money I’m afraid I can’t find
    “I’m sorry, I’ve no choice. I’ll leave these behind.”

    I tapped on her shoulder and quietly proposed,
    “If you’ll let me, I’d like to pay for one for one of those.”
    A gentleman stepped forward, came up to the till
    “I’d too like to pay for a toy for your child, in good will.”

    Another and another from the line came to offer
    Donating their cash for the toys they did proffer
    The woman in tears turned and said with lightheartedness
    “From the depths of my heart thank you all for your kindness.”

    “Merry Christmas” we exclaimed warm smiles on our faces
    All signs of holiday stress and worry – no traces.
    The true meaning of Christmas it’s clear without doubt,
    Tis most blessed to give to those who are without.

    1. Critique

      This actually happened two days ago :)
      My friend was the one who tapped on the woman’s shoulder.
      Merry Christmas to all fellow writers and a New Year filled with much fun and success with your writing endeavors.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        I also am touched by your story, Critique. A basic goodness seems to hover around those whe see need. I can not help to think, it is the work of the angels, especially At holiday times

  19. Lyrical

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, in two-thousand and thirteen,
    It was time for my evening bedtime routine,
    I locked all the doors and turned out the light,
    and headed upstairs for a long winters night.
    I checked on the children who were fast asleep,
    They made not a sound, not even a peep.
    I dressed in my worn red and green flannel gown,
    And was just about ready to lay my head down.
    I was feeling alone and started to cry,
    When there arose a commotion. Was it a passerby?
    I sprang to the window to see what was going on,
    And looked down through the glass at my snow-covered lawn.
    For a moment I thought I saw Santa in his sleigh,
    Or was it the savior asleep in the hay?
    No, maybe it was the Grinch come to steal our stuff,
    So I threw open the window in one maddening huff!
    And what to my wondering eyes did I see,
    Was it Frosty the snowman looking at me?
    Or was it the ghost of Christmas Future, Present, or Past?
    Their identity was baffling me. How long would this last?
    I peered out again with my eyes in a squint,
    Looking for anything that would give me a hint.
    Maybe this is all just a very bad dream,
    “Who ARE you”! I bellowed with a militant scream.
    “It’s ME”said a voice travelling up through the air,
    Then I raced down the stairs just as fast as I dare,
    I flung open the door, my arms opened wide,
    “You’ve come home, you’ve come home!” I gleefully cried.
    “Children come quick, your papa is here!”
    And they rose from their beds with laughter and cheer.
    Then we snuggled together by the fire that eve,
    So thankful our soldier had been given his leave.
    I am sure I heard angels in their heavenly choir.
    While the others all dozed in the glow of the fire.
    And then I was startled by a curious tone,
    A whine, or a cry, a tiny little moan.
    As I turned around slowly to have a look-see,
    I saw a furry head as cute as could be.
    And out of a duffel bag by the big front door,
    Emerged a small puppy who I’d not seen before,
    He had floppy ears and adorable eyes,
    His fur was all golden, so tiny in size.
    “Come here” I beckoned so as not to wake the rest,
    “Where did you come from my unexpected guest?”
    And as he grew closer, I noticed his paws,
    Were as white as the beard on dear Santa Claus.
    He jumped up on the sofa with amazing ease,
    And curled right up upon my knees.
    I patted his head as he settled right in
    And sat ever so still, my lips in a grin.
    I knew in a heartbeat there was nothing amiss,
    I could not imagine a better Christmas than this.
    And just as I started to catch forty winks,
    I heard sounds on the rooftop like jangles and clinks,
    I saw visions of reindeer and elves in the snow,
    “Happy Christmas to all, HO HO HO!”

  20. Smileyface256

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
    Not a creature was stirring but one little mouse,
    Was desperately searching for a snack,
    But his life quickly ended—in a mousetrap.

  21. agnesjack

    Since I didn’t have any ideas for this prompt, I thought I would let Bert, the “novelist” from a few prompts ago (Thanksgiving Intervention), give it a try. Please forgive me.

    A CHRISTMAS POEM by Bert

    ’Twas the night before Christmas, and Jordy was spent.
    Raphaella had left him for some joker named Brent.
    And Julia, his mistress with boobs like balloons,
    Was with her new wife on a beach in Cancun.

    His job, he had lost, plus the Swiss bank account
    Had been cleaned by his partner, a phony viscount.
    His dear yacht was gone, as was his Ferrari,
    He felt sad and forlorn and so terribly sorry.

    His friends all deserted him — his family, too.
    He was shunned by society, and caught a bad flu.
    He hugged his dog, Caesar, because of his woes,
    But Caesar, the teaser, bit his long nose.

    He cursed and he cried and he wailed his lament,
    ’Til he was weary and bleary and could no longer vent.
    And just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore,
    A brisk and bold knocking came at the door,

    It was Belle, the secretary of the partner who stole.
    She was buxom and beautiful and ready to roll.
    She had all the files. She had all the proof.
    And she had enough passion to rattle the roof.

    All at once, the life returned to his loins,
    His fate and Belle’s had forever been joined.
    Jordy now knew he would get his revenge,
    But that is a tale for next Christmas, my friends.

    “So what do you all think?” Bert said, anxiously, to the group who sat stunned and gaping around the Christmas table.

    “I think, dear” his wife Josephine said, “that maybe you should consider another hobby, such as golf, or model airplanes, or woodworking — something that doesn’t require putting words on paper.”

    “Amen to that,” brother-in-law Bob said. “A-men to that!”
    _____________

    I wish all the unique and talented writers on this forum a very Merry Christmas and a magical New Year. —Nancy

    1. Kerry Charlton

      Thanks Nancy for a little Christmas cheer
      Your prose will be read, far and near
      I know better than to think, Bert wrote this
      For your words deserve no less than a kiss

      A kiss unique and strong enough to die for
      And a memory of beautiful dreams to store
      Your words traveled through immense space
      My thought are, you definetly won the race.

    2. Observer Tim

      And that’s what happens when you don’t have ideas? Sounds like you have the whole inspiration thing licked.

      Merry Christmas to you, Nancy, and may any dry spell you have be filled with as much creativity as you show here.

  22. dgship1

    At The Church Before Christmas

    Twas a night before Christmas, and all through the church
    No one was quite stirring, but a bat from his perch.
    The carols were ready, the books in their racks
    My wife had prepared her variety of snacks.

    The People were yet to arrive to the service
    My mind was racing, and I was a little bit nervous.
    After many years it never seems quite down pat
    Would the sermon touch hearts or simply fall flat.

    We wondered who would come out on this night
    Hoping that all would be pleasing and really quite right.
    The music began in the background to play
    It was soon time to begin, with little delay.

    Soon People began to come through door
    The snow on their feet tracking up our clean floor.
    Everyone seemed so happy, and joyful in deed
    The time had now come for the service to precede.

    Everyone was preparing to sing the first song
    The guitar player was already strumming along.
    The carols proclaiming of a Savior’s birth
    Who because of His love came down to the earth.

    When tree on the stage suddenly started to quake
    It swayed and the ornaments moved with a shake.
    I watched with great horror at the sight which followed
    No more would this night seem really very hallowed.

    A scream could be heard from the very back row
    And soon some of the folks were preparing to go.
    The little winged fiend who had woke from his sleep
    Made some women scream and one child weep

    Oh, what a disaster I thought deep inside
    How I wanted to run, how I wished I could hide
    The holy evening in this sacred house
    Was now being ruined by one flying mouse.

    Oh what could we do, and what could I say
    Oh how could I calm the great disastrous fray.
    And then from the side came our trusted trustee
    Who was smiling and laughing with unmistakable glee.

    The small little menace flew over my head
    And into a coat which the trustee held widespread.
    Our song leader simply continued singing his tune
    Even while the whole seen made me feel like a buffoon.

    When it was all over, all said and all done
    We eventually returned to the song we’d begun.
    With order returned and all nearly set right
    We continued to sing of that silent night.

    The story we’ll share long into the future
    Of the bat who brought us some great Christmas humor.
    The unexpected often gives us great memory
    For stories like these we remember with great glee.

    And what can we learn from our short little tale
    Never let it be said any service is stale.
    For we never quite know as we begin
    Just quite how the service will be in the end

    Even the greatest of plans often go awry
    When upon our own lives we do fully rely
    Prepare as you will, prepare as you might
    In the end only God can make all go right.

  23. SheepCarrot

    Twas the night before Christmas, and all there were soused.
    Not a drunkard was stirring, except for one louse.

    For I in a kerchief and a Yankees ball cap,
    Was picking through pockets while they all took their nap.

    I’d been just strolling past admiring the tree;
    The door had been open quite inviting to me.

    It’d been quite a party, I could tell that at once.
    The first to pass out—his forehead said “Dunce.”

    Boys will be boys, as always they say,
    Frat guys changed not a bit since my day.

    Wallets I found but most had no money,
    Spent right away on Jack Daniels with Honey.

    I tossed them aside with a lot of disgust.
    Didn’t at least one have some kind of a Trust?

    I scanned the room, looking far and near.
    For something of value, not wanting their beer.

    When what to my wandering eyes did I see
    But their new Xbox One and their old PS3.

    Now a gamer I’m not, for consoles I mean,
    Controllers elude me for which I’m not keen.

    Disconnecting the wires I gather them up.
    Til behind me I hear, “Police! You best stop!”

    I dropped them and swung. That started a ruckus.
    The cop hit me first, then I fell on my tuckus.

    The charges were loaded. The judge threw the book.
    I got fifteen years for the stuff that I took.

    So now here I stay in a room, eight by ten,
    And know I’ll never be on the Nice List again.

  24. jacquelynmparent

    Twas the night before Christmas inside the house
    The kids were in bed and so was the spouse
    While I was waiting for St. Nick to appear
    I was suddenly startled by a grinning black bear
    The toys came to life after dark at the tree
    Shouting and whistling it’s good to be free
    Only once a year they come to life
    And Mr. Bear finally found his wife.
    Alas in the moonlight we watched for reindeer
    I served them all cookies and I had my share
    Reindeer or not I could not hear
    But we all fell asleep right there in the chair
    I awoke the next morning toys all around me
    My children were screaming and squealing with glee
    Mr. Bear found a home right next to his wife
    Merry Christmas to all and all a good life.

  25. PeterW

    Christmas Poem Parody

    Write a Xmas poem parody of ‘Twas the Night before Christmas,’ only write it about an unexpected guest who isn’t Santa. For example, Lionel Richie, Jared from Subway or even Lindsey Vonn. Any of these guests would be acceptable. Maybe even a young virgin Mick Jagger; like as a kid. Jesus could even visit or a jolly Pontius Pilot. Remember though this is a parody, so don’t make it too serious. Like you wouldn’t want to have Mel Gibson visit. Keep it on the light side. This is Xmas time. No depressing lines. For instance:

    “Twas the Night before Christmas in a poor neighborhood/ Noone was getting presents/ Bottles and needles were strewn everywhere, man/ Even the mice were high and malnourished/ Candy-canes and snow-plums, what the f kid/ Grab me another beer and cigarette/ Only person tearing open shutters is me/ when your mom gets home from stripping/ The lustre of midday in a heroin addict’s eye/ glued open from frost/ in the subzero temperature reminiscence of a dead reindeer/ Talk back and you will see some flying reindeer/ Happy Xmas to this bottle/ you punk-ass bitch.”

    See this is not so ok. It’s pretty dark. Also it doesn’t rhyme. It really has no flow. The rhyming scheme of aabb, ddee is a necessity for this parody. Plus the imagery of a poor neighborhood is just… not life-affirming, it is blah, honestly. Plus use of iambs would be good. For instance:

    “Twas the night before Christmas when all through my abode/ All the windows where open and in swirled the snow/ The coons were hung by the chimney with care/ Ready to be made into Christmas hats for all to wear.//// The ghosts were nestled among the wickers and the frosted floor/ The resident ravens clawed, took wing, and screeched nevermore/ While in the bedroom the fat-suit sat like a vast balloon/ I donned the cap, St. Nick would be arriving at Parker-Quarlles Mall soon!”

    Yeah… not so good either. The iambs aren’t really great. And remember this is supposed to be about an unexpected guest. Not about the mall Santa who creeped you out as a kid. I mean when you were sat on this lap, and there was certainly something strange about his heavy, moist breath on your little neck, and how he sort of pressed you into him, and how there was some hard thing in his pocket that kept brushing against you, but your parents were there, naively waving and smiling in cheesy Christmas sweaters and snapping pics and making a big deal about it soooo, like you didn’t say anything about it. And yeah, there was definitely a twinkle in that Santa’s eye. However this take on the prompt is just way too personal. Why would you put yourself in place of the sick pedo Santa anyways.

    Here is another example. It’s alright, sticks mostly to the prompt.

    “Twas the night before Christmas, when an unexpected guest entered the house/ He stuck upstairs on all fours like a mouse/ He scurried on all fours, crab-like, lively, and quick/ He whistled and shouted and said some stuff about his shrink/ Plastered across his face and his hands were globular sugar-plums/ I guess, apparently, they were glued on, with epoxy/ As leaves before a the wild hurricane fly/ When they meet an obstacle, mount to the sky/ Now it was like this as he zipped around the living room/ Skirting the tree, sort of crashing through the presents/ And this was a human-being too/ He was like on some amphetamines and off various other meds/ I honestly though it was some sort dog that had gotten into the house/ He was all dressed in black and shit and they’re was only light from the Xmas tree/ But he sort of stopped and turned, yeah like a squirrel/ Then he just fucking scampered off into the kitchen/ Yelling now dasher, now dancer, now Paul/ dash away now, dash away all/ Then I was like ‘who the fuck are you’/ Later we would learn his name was actually Paul/ Fuck my name is Paul too/ Eventually he made his way up to my daughter’s bed/ That’s when I shot him and ruined Christmas/….If you’d like to know, I was cleared of all charges/ Not a ‘Stand your Ground’ claim, but the guy was obviously crazy and dangerous and in my daughter’s bedroom/ And image my daughter, thought she was waking up to Christmas cinnamon buns and presents and the tree and familial love, but instead she is waking up literally in the blood of Paul, like all over the place, and her mother screaming, her 15-year-old brother screaming and then the sirens and I’m not going to go into it all but she took it really hard, has tons of nightmares, won’t sleep in her own room, can you blame her? /And some professional writer with his dumb smile is suggesting that unexpected guests are good subjects for parodies. I seem to remember a prompt about some asshole staring through window at night and another one where you find some criminal’s finger-prints in your house. Jesus, my daughter has enough problems as it is.”

    Remember this is just an example of the prompt you could write. It is not the best example. Too vindictive at the end. The shot at the professional writer is totally inappropriate. He is a professional. He knows how to make a good writing prompt…

    Good Luck Writers. Merry Xmas.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      Whoa PerterW!

      An entire life time of experiences, woven into a parody of life itself. Unawareness, lies, harm, resolutions, punishment, delusions, illustrations, beastly references, criminal, insanity, awareness, and then finally, TRUTH. I was captured in your prose, wanted to step out it for a breath of fresh air, but I wasn’t permitted to.

      What else can a say? One word only, haunting.

    2. jhowe

      That was…. was…. I’m kind of at a loss. I enjoyed the hell out of it though. When you spoke of iambs, I had no idea what an iamb was, and I read it as lamb and then wondered how lambs fit into the story, and then looked up iamb and said, oh yeah, that works. There was so much cleverness inserted in every sentence that I won’t try to mention any specifics, but I want you to know how much I enjoy your stories with this one being one of your best. This, coming from a guy who is unfamiliar with iambs, can be taken any way you want.

    3. Observer Tim

      A rather long and roundabout way of saying “I ain’t gonna write no steenking poem,” Peter. But it is an entertaining and insightful read. Technically, Moore usually jumped between anapestic, dactylic and amphibrachic meters, not iambic, but hey I’m no pedant.

      Wait a minute, I am pedantic! I must have been looking in the wrong mirror!

      Happy Christmas, sir, and may your writing continue to entertain.

  26. sunshnedaydrem

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the psych ward,
    Not a patient was stirring, not even Ol’ Ford.
    The straight-jackets were hung by the clinic haphazardly,
    In hopes that no inmates would act too damn dastardly.

    The guards were nestled all snug at their desks,
    While visions of nudie mags danced in their heads.
    And Kim in her robe, and I in my hospital gown,
    Were settling ourselves for the nightly lockdown.

    When out in the hallway, there arose such a clatter,
    I struggled against my restraints to hear what was the matter.
    Toward the commotion the staff flew like a flash,
    Tore down the corridor to grab the sedative cache.

    The glow of the flickering fluorescent lights,
    Gave the narrow tile hall an atmosphere of fright.
    When what, to my curious ears should I hear,
    But Big Joan screaming, “Later bitches, I’m outta here!”

    With a shove and a grunt, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment she’d encounter Warden Rick.
    In one quick motion, his syringe was embedded,
    Joan laughed, stumbled and fell and said “Maybe tomorrow, instead…”

  27. cindy foley

    Twas the night before Christmas, and wishing to sleep
    I lay on the couch where I heard not a peep
    From my stout wife who usually snores from her chair
    Wrapped up in her jammies. She slept unaware.
    When suddenly what in my ears did I hear
    Not the sleigh bells of Santa, or the hooves of reindeer
    But a creak on the steps that led up from below
    Where spiders and spirits spin horrors of woe.
    It’s nothing I thought as I turned on my side
    But the creaking continued, it would not be denied.
    Straight up like a flash, I stood in the room
    I reached for a weapon, found a well used corn broom
    And shaking my head with concern and dismay
    I clung to it tightly; I’m old, by the way.
    There’s so very little that I need or I want
    I’m wrinkled and furrowed. I’m too lean and gaunt
    And whatever was coming in the night up the stair
    Had no need to worry, I have no strength to spare
    And I almost laughed in spite of myself
    We had nothing to steal but an old shelf elf
    We don’t have a hound dog, or a parrot or cat,
    No security alarm, no, nothing like that.
    We just have a son gone to some distant shore
    Where he’s fighting for freedom in another man’s war.
    I saw no sense in hoping for what could not be
    Our soldier in uniform to come rescue me
    At this moment in time where I stood much aware
    I was frightened to death by the creak on the stair.
    There are times in your life when you hold em or fold
    And as I have said I am wrinkled and old
    But there in that moment I had to be brave
    Even though my hands shook with a frightful cold wave
    If my son could bear arms in a far away trench
    I could get my old butt off the warm cushioned bench.
    So I gripped the broom tightly and waited beside
    The door to the cellar should it open wide.
    And then there the door handle turned with a squeak
    I raised the broom handle, gosh I felt so weak.
    Ever so slowly the door came ajar
    I strained with my eyes, but saw nothing so far.
    I wielded my broom like a dangerous spike
    With it poised o’er my shoulder and ready to strike.
    Then there by the light of our small Christmas tree
    A vision of wonder was given to me
    At the top of the stair stepping into our place
    I beheld our brave son, Oh blessed be his face.
    I’ll never forget that one Christmas night
    When the one thing I’d prayed for came into the light.
    And so this is my wish as I store my old broom
    that a miracle of Christmas creaks into your room.

  28. sunshnedaydrem

    This is my first submission, and I wrote it in a few minutes while killing time at work. Any and all critiques are welcome (and appreciated!) Hope you all have a very Merry Christmas. Also, sorry if this posted twice- my computer is having some problems.

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the psych ward,
    Not a patient was stirring, not even Ol’ Ford.
    The straight-jackets were hung by the clinic haphazardly,
    In hopes that no inmates would act too damn dastardly.

    The guards were nestled all snug at their desks,
    While visions of nudie mags danced in their heads.
    And Kim in her robe, and I in my hospital gown,
    Were settling ourselves for the nightly lockdown.

    When out in the hallway, there arose such a clatter,
    I struggled against my restraints to hear what was the matter.
    Toward the commotion the staff flew like a flash,
    Tore down the corridor to grab the sedative cache.

    The glow of the flickering fluorescent lights,
    Gave the narrow tile hall an atmosphere of fright.
    When what, to my curious ears should I hear,
    But Big Joan screaming, “Later bitches, I’m outta here!”

    With a shove and a grunt, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment she’d encounter Warden Rick.
    In one quick motion, his syringe was embedded,
    Joan laughed, stumbled and fell and said “Maybe tomorrow, instead…”

  29. sunshnedaydrem

    This is my first submission, and I wrote something while killing time at work. I welcome any and all criticism. Have a Merry Christmas :)

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the psych ward,
    Not a patient was stirring, not even Ol’ Ford.
    The straight-jackets were hung by the clinic haphazardly,
    In hopes that no inmates would act too damn dastardly.

    The guards were nestled all snug at their desks,
    While visions of nudie mags danced in their heads.
    And Kim in her robe, and I in my hospital gown,
    Were settling ourselves for the nightly lockdown.

    When out in the hallway, there arose such a clatter,
    I struggled against my restraints to hear what was the matter.
    Toward the commotion the staff flew like a flash,
    Tore down the corridor to grab the sedative cache.

    The glow of the flickering fluorescent lights,
    Gave the narrow tile hall an atmosphere of fright.
    When what, to my curious ears should I hear,
    But Big Joan screaming, “Later bitches, I’m outta here!”

    With a shove and a grunt, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment she’d encounter Warden Rick.
    In one quick motion, his syringe was embedded,
    Joan laughed, stumbled and fell and said “Maybe tomorrow, instead…”

  30. TEMiranda

    T’was the night before Christmas and the tree’s come alive
    With squirrels and birds and honey bee hives.
    Roots sprout under and two twigs jut about.
    The tree stands up on its newborn legs and wobbles on out!

    Through the back porch and up to the yard’s fence,
    The tree pauses to glance at its stunned audience.
    The children all point, the parents do too.
    “What is that thing?” “What’s it gonna do?”

    Suddenly a bright star streams across the night sky.
    The tree takes of its electric topper and flips it up high.
    It sparkles and shines with the cord still a-plugged.
    The children all gasp and their parents all hug.

    As the glimmering object falls slowly to the ground
    Not a creature is heard. Not a breath. Not a sound.
    Once it lands on a mountain of pure white snow,
    The tree’s arms slump over and it speaks tired and low.

    “My whole pine family sits past this gate.
    I miss them dearly, as of late.
    You no longer look at me as a living thing.
    You’ve cut my roots, you’ve trimmed my wings.

    You’ve hung toys and plastics and lit me up.
    I haven’t had any water, not a sip or a sup.
    But now, somehow, I’ve come back to life.
    And all I want now are my children and wife.

    I can hear their hearts beat in the silence of the night.
    I can still see their faces from our last light.
    They’re roots are still living past this fence in the woods,
    Can someone help me?” The children understood.

    Within five seconds the parent’s become a-flustered;
    The children run to the tree to form a tight cluster.
    “We’ll help you Dear Tree, you know we will.
    And not another pine tree we will ever kill!”

    The children all hammer on the six-foot plastic wall
    Until the gate slabs bend and break and finally fall.
    With a noisy cheer the children clear the way.
    “Thank you young people. You’ve made my Christmas day.”

    With a hop and a skip, over the hump the tree goes,
    Dropping ornaments, light bulbs and several red bows.
    It trudges through the snow with the excitement of life.
    “I’m coming sweet treelings, my darling dear wife.”

    Once the tree arrives at the home he once knew,
    There is nothing but stumps. He doesn’t know what to do.
    The stub where his wife stood was sawed low to the ground.
    He touched it with a branch and looked sadly around.

    The spots where his children once reached up to the sky
    Are now tiny white hills barely ankle high.
    “My sweet family, where did I go wrong?
    You were young and beautiful and majestic and strong.

    Now you’re decorated in a human house somewhere,
    With children around you to awe and to stare.
    Will I ever find you and love you like I once did?”
    The tree drops to the floor and sobs like a kid.

    “Daddy!” A small voice shouts, piercing the ugly dread.
    “Look at the star they put on top of my head!
    And the large crystal balls of red, gold and blue.
    It’s like they want me to be one of their toys too!”

    The pine tree stood up and hugs his two sons with glee.
    “Where have you two been? And where’s Mommy?”
    “Here I am,” said a sound of pure delight.
    “We’ve been waiting for hours on this cold, blustering night.

    It was odd and crazy when I awoke,
    You should have seen the faces on those old folk.
    They were just as horrified and surprised as me.
    I rushed as fast as I could back to my family.

    Now that we’re all here we can go uphill,
    Where the people are scarce and the lumbering nil.
    Where the summers are moist and the winters are cold
    And you and I can grow tall and old.”

    Once they travel up the snow-covered slope
    They plant their roots in the land full of hope
    That one day their trunks will be spared the saw
    And their only fear will be the occasional bear claw.

    And hopefully humans will stop needlessly
    Chopping down and mauling the trees of their trees,
    For the sake of decorating for maybe one month through.
    These poor tree families deserve another Christmas too.

    1. Observer Tim

      Wow, this is a take I did not expect. Very well told, TEMiranda, and very touching. It makes me feel for all the trees out there that get whacked for our Christmas cheer. Makes me glad my tree is only metaphoric, the the corpse of woodland foliage.

      Though I have to admit, I had a flashback to an Ikea commercial of a few years ago where we have to be told at the end “It’s just a lamp.”

  31. Icabu

    T’was the night before Christmas, thrown outta the house,
    The Mrs. was not happy, no longer my spouse;
    My stuff tossed on the lawn without a care,
    My hopes to return, not even on a dare;
    All on my own in an empty bed,
    Regrets beginning to dance thro’ my head,
    With a quick adjustment of my cap,
    Thinking of sitting in my lover’s lap-
    At the door, a noise, such a clatter,
    Thru the peep I see what was the matter.
    Pulling the door open in a flash,
    I drag my lover in by her coat sash.
    Her eyes snap, cold as snow,
    My hands drop, protecting below;
    Her eyes soften, it would appear,
    A hug and a whispered dear,
    I grab her up really quick,
    For time is short, just a nick.
    Faster than ever together we came,
    With shouts and calls by name:
    Now! Damn it, now! Dance you vixen,
    Shooting stars and a thundering blitzin’;
    We reached the top, hit the wall!
    We had to have it, have it all!
    Soaring as if we could fly,
    Nothing was higher, not even the sky;
    Panting and spent, the time it flew,
    Time for a new start for us two;
    Needing to find a new roof
    And maybe a little of the truth.
    I hadn’t spread too much around,
    Thus I find myself newly unbound;
    Sometimes it takes a hard foot,
    In an uncomfortable place, to put;
    The Mrs., I don’t want her back,
    She was smart to make me pack;
    Now in love and so very merry,
    There’s no worry, I’ll never re-marry;
    Take the love, wrapped in a bow,
    And keep the promises real low;
    Hold the reins in your teeth,
    Promising only to be sweet.
    The prize, a lovely flat belly
    And kisses as sweet as jelly;
    Sly as the jolly ol’ elf,
    Is how I pride myself;
    Using my head
    Leaving nothing to dread.
    Words will never work,
    Only make you a jerk,
    Which she’ll shove in your nose
    Even when you present a rose.
    So to get away with a whistle,
    And not lay with a thistle;
    Keep the prize in sight-
    And it’ll always be a good night.

    1. hillsworth

      Glad to see an old familiar face here. I’ve tried a couple times to make a comeback, somewhat unsuccessfully, but I still read alot of the posts. Hope to see more of yours, I’ve always enjoyed them.

  32. flyaway

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas and I was cozy in bed
    With socks on my feet and sheets up to my head.
    I closed my eyes slowly, feeling slumber draw near
    Then somebody whispered “Are you asleep, dear?”

    I peered over the covers and at my room’s door
    There stood my kind father, with hot chocolate and s’mores.
    He came into my room, sat down on my bed,
    I looked at his eyes – they seemed to be red.

    He took a deep breath, then took a few more,
    His hands were trembling, so were his feet on the floor.
    Clearing his throat, he began to tell me,
    “Honey, your mom and I are no longer family.”

    “She went to the dentist, more and more often
    (Even though her teeth were quite far from rotten)
    It was in this time that she came to know him
    And of this affair I learned when I caught them.”

    “I won’t go into details, for this there’s no need”
    And as he kept talking, I just couldn’t breathe.
    The night before Christmas and everything ended,
    My picture-perfect family could never be mended.

    Forgiving my mother will not be so easy,
    We used to be close but now I feel queasy.
    To be so selfish and forget all your children,
    She tried to explain but I would not listen.

    So for all you out there with families in trouble,
    Know that I’m here, so that you don’t crumble.
    We’ll help each other out, talk everything through,
    Maybe then Christmas will be better for me and for you.

  33. PromptPrincess13

    A Cheesy Christmas Story

    ‘Twas the night of Christmas, when all through the house,
    Not a human was stirring, but, there was a mouse,
    All of her hoppers were asleep in the walls,
    Dreaming of cheese dancing in the halls,

    She waltzed and whittled her time away,
    Until she heard the sound of reindeer and a sleigh,
    She ran to the door hung up on a tack,
    And cried to the mouse with the sack:

    “Oh, Mousey Clause, you’re here, you’re here!
    How was your night? You can tell me, my dear!”

    His furry paws snug in his mitts,
    He gave his wife a smile, and used his rhyming wits.

    “Giving cheese to the mice of the world, behold!
    The best job that is ever to be told,
    But flying through the night is rough my dear,
    And I must say, I feel a little weird.”

    His wife laughed and scuttled away,
    “I don’t doubt it, cheddar,
    But look at this,
    And I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

    He did as he was told,
    His cherry suit heavy upon shoulders too old,
    His whiskers were white as snow,
    And his boot-clad paws almost didn’t know where to go.

    She took him past the doors where his daughters slept,
    And past the closets where his jolly secrets where kept,
    They kept going until they came to the room of their eldest son,
    A quiet young lad, blessed with the gift of having many hearts won.

    Through the door they saw,
    The best sight of all,
    Above the son a white coat of magic appeared,
    As white, some say, as his own father’s beard,
    Two boots sat by the bed,
    And a small Christmas wreath lay on the young mouse’s head.

    Mousey Clause saw and understood,
    New paws where to stand,
    Where he once stood,
    What a wonderful change!
    A new Clause to gift the new age.

      1. PromptPrincess13

        Thx jhowe, I was going for a children’s book angle, so I’m glad you liked it. The idea for it, oddly enough, came from catching a glimpse of Build a Bear Workshop’s new stuffed animal while Christmas shopping. A little mouse in a santa suit!

  34. john godfrey

    ‘Twas The Plight Before Christmas

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
    Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.

    When I heard the noise from downstairs my children were asleep,
    They were journeying through dreamland, counting some sheep.

    The humming from my front room got louder as I neared ,
    That was when I saw the fat man with the scruffy white beard.

    He was wearing a large coat the color of an apple,
    It stood out from my furniture like a dachshund of dapple.

    He was bent over my tree, messing with my kids’ gifts,
    He was taking in the Christmas cookies with long, thoughtful sniffs.

    He was listening to a gift (a doll) talk with one large ear,
    When I finally said: “What are you doing here?”

    The man turned in surprise and yet out a short yell,
    When he turned his belly knocked down an ornament (a bell).

    “Didn’t I say don’t come to my house when my husband’s around,
    If he gets ahold of you, he’ll kill you, you’ll drown!

    “If he catches you, Nicky, you’re done for, you’re history,
    Christmas will be ruined, your disappearance a mystery.

    “My kids are here, it is Christmas night!
    What are you trying to do, give me a fright?”

    The fat man smiled and strode over to me,
    His breath smelled of peppermint, his eyes twinkled with glee.

    “I have to deliver presents all night, in the cold, on my sleigh,
    Can’t I spend a little time with my sweetheart, make my holidays gay?”

    His voice was so convincing, his tone was so sweet,
    He squeezed me tight in his coat and lifted me off of my feet.

    We were kissing each other when my daughter’s presence made me pause,
    She was standing there, screaming: “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus!”

  35. DMelde

    T’was the night before Christmas and Bob had to pee,
    Like a tuft-crested Yoot bird that got stung by a bee.

    He wanted to race to the bathroom door,
    But blocking his path were eight cats, IN RED HATS, plus
    four more by the door.

    They purred and they purred, and they raised such a ruckus,
    That Bob felt his bladder perform a kerpluckus.

    His innards complained as they growled in protest,
    They rambled and raved like a drunk at a fest.

    Bob’s eyes were now floating near the top of his head,
    So he ran out the front door and right into a sled.

    Whose sled could it be? Bob couldn’t care less,
    If Bob wasn’t careful he’d soon be a mess.

    He ran with a roar, “Get out of my way!”
    Out into the night, out by the highway.

    With relief Bob stopped, and he started to go,
    And he called out in the night “Don’t eat yellow snow!”

  36. BBuckland

    Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the town,
    Not a creature was stirring, not even the hound.
    My stockings were tight, pulled up to the thigh,
    The twins were Siamese, one girl, one guy.

    We twins were all nestled inside of the barn,
    While lightning and thunder struck down at the farm.
    And brother in his hat, and I in my scarf,
    If we don’t eat soon, I’ll feast on my barf.

    When lightning struck corn outside in the field,
    My voice pitch went high, I yelled and I squealed.
    Away to the door, my twin and I flew,
    Tore open the gate and in the wind blew.

    We fell to the ground, now covered in hay,
    I looked to my brother, oh what a day.
    When, what to our shared eyes should appear,
    But a time-traveling knight, with his sword and his spear.

    With a thrust and a jab, so lively so quick,
    We reached on the ground and found a small stick.
    He pressed and he pressed as we crawled and we crawled,
    Finally he stabbed as we curled in a ball.

    “Now, death shall cometh to ye foul beast!
    What sort of magic doth thy teach?
    I shall behead ye and take claim to me prize!
    Me time hath come, a new era shall arise!”

    One final slice and soon we’d be dead,
    A chop with his sword would sever our head.
    He’d hold up his trophy and stare in our eyes,
    Our life would be over, our bodies divide.

    One final thought, my hunger appeased,
    My brother and I down on our knees.
    Our tongue would be used to season his stew,
    The irony recognized, by me, by you.

    As I opened my eyes to see the delay,
    I noticed my brother standing away.
    The cut and the slice by the sword of the knight,
    We were alive, by day and by night.

    His eyes-how they panicked! His breathing how deep!
    Could I be dreaming? Could I be asleep?
    He stumbled and stumbled and took a step back,
    We looked at each other, it’s time to attack.

    The storm had picked up, a hurricane was near,
    He fell to the ground, to his butt, to his rear.
    We moved toward the man, the time-traveling knight,
    He cried and he said, “Me don’t want to fight.”

    Behind him a wormhole of some sort appeared,
    My brother and I would soon disappear.
    Conjoined at the waist were my brother and I,
    Siamese no more, we should thank this guy.

    He spoke not a word, but watched us walk past,
    And cried to himself, his flag at half-mast.
    And laying his head upon the soft ground,
    An end to his era as I picked up his crown.

    We sprang through his portal and traveled in time,
    And landed in Europe, down on the Rhine.
    But I heard the knight exclaim, before our quantum leap,
    “It’s time to wake up, wake up from your sleep!”

  37. mod.nova

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas and I remember it clear,
    I was snuggled in bed and saw santa appear,
    What I thought was a dream turned right into a fear,
    ‘Cause Santa wasn’t Santa the more he came near,

    Though his clothes and his outfit matched all of the themes,
    He wasn’t the santa I would see on the screens,
    He was making his way when I attempted the screams,
    But nothing came out I was scared to extremes,

    As he made his was closer I noticed a flicker,
    A knife in his hand made the man look sicker,
    As the fear that I felt began to rise up quicker,
    He lifted his weapon and let out a whicker,

    When it fell in my chest it was best it was fast,
    I saw my life end in the midst it amassed,
    and if Santa isn’t real heres a story that last,
    The man that I saw ’twas the ghost of christmas past.

  38. don potter

    The night before Christmas I was feeling quite blue
    Maybe some music would be the best thing to do.
    Sure the songs could add to my state of melancholy
    But I always liked the season of mistletoe and holly.

    My DVD collection contained lots of holiday songs
    I knew in an instant my decision couldn’t be wrong.
    There were lots of old artists from which I could choose
    Along with some new ones – no way I could lose.

    Standards from Crosby, Old Blue Eyes and Mel Torme
    Plus Brenda Lee and Burl Ives did it in a country way.
    With Specialty songs from The Chip Monks and Gene Autry
    I knew my ‘play list’ was as broad and deep as it ought to be.

    I wasted no time placing each disk in the carousel
    Hoping these songs would make the night turn out well.
    Nat King Cole sang “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”
    While next on the list was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

    I sang along to “White Christmas,” others were just hummers
    But listening to Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” was a real bummer.
    Phil Spector’s Christmas album gave things a rock and roll flavor
    The dozens of recording both old and new gave me plenty to savor.

    Don’t know when I dozed off, but the music played score after score
    The songs filled my head as I dreamed my love returned from the war
    Then suddenly I woke to see her uniformed figure in full view
    While Mariah Carey sang “All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

    (I’m not a rhyming kind of guy, but I wanted to participate in the last prompt before Christmas and to take this opportunity to wish all those in our little segment of the writing community a Merry Christmas and a Happy and Creative New Year).

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Don, I got so excited reading your record selection of Christmas music. I would have written the same titles and added Ray Conniff”s “Ring Christmas Bells, Ring Christmas Bells” , “Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt, Robert Merrill singing “Birthday Of The King,” Mahalia Jackson’s, “Sweet Little Jesis Boy” and last but not least,
        “I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing In” by Norman Luboff.
        In case you’re wondering, I’ve been an album collecter for so many years, I can’t remember. I’ve got 2100 vinyl discs scattered all over my house. Merry Christmas to you and your family. Kerry

        1. don potter

          We’re on the same page again, Kerry. I love all those you mentioned and would have added Perry Como’s “There’s Place Like Home For The Holidays,” Sinatra’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” and “Christmas And You” by Joni James (it was recorded in 1954 but has not become a Standard). Dino recorded a fun album as well. There are so many good numbers that can be associated with the joy of the season in both a spiritual and secular way.

          1. jhowe

            You didn’t mention Robert Earl Keene’s Merry Christmas from the family. Probably an oversite.

            Thanks for the Christmas wishes.

    1. don potter

      I was not familiar with Robert Earl Keene’s work, so I Googled him and watched the video. I did not know what genre is right for him. Maybe you might suggest where he belongs. Merry Christmas.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Robert Earl is from San Antonio parts. It’s impossible to capture his genre. I do know one thing. He a prince of a guy and does an extreme amount of charity work with his talent.

    2. Observer Tim

      This is a great trip down memory lane, Don. I love the song references – some I’ll have to look up (which will be fun) and some that are font memories already.

      It’s amazing how much we miss while busy living our lives: this year I discovered a new song (to me) that I’d missed since 1981 – “Merry Christmas” by the Waitresses. The sound is strongly reminiscent of Blondie, but the message is still a nice one.

      Merry Christmas!

  39. agnesjack

    ’Twas the week before Christmas, and I didn’t have a clue,
    What to write for this prompt, so I’ll leave it to you.

    Looking forward to reading everyone’s fabulous entries this week.–Nancy

  40. jhowe

    Twas the night before Christmas as I turn on the switch,
    As writing prompts go, this one is a bitch.
    The computer screen hums as it purrs into life,
    The kids are all sleeping and so is the wife.

    I type the first stanza and then I hit save,
    Poor Clement Moore just rolled in his grave.
    I consider the theme of Moore’s wonderful piece,
    And hope no one calls the freak’n grammar police.

    I visualize a tale with demons so fat,
    But this is the forte of Calico Cat.
    So what should my wondering mind represent,
    If nobody minds I think I’ll just vent.

    I think of my audience, writers one and all,
    By now they are skimming or banging the wall.
    I think of the authors of this writing game,
    Except for the hard ones I call them by name.

    Now Don, now Tim, now Nancy and Rainie,
    On Swatchcat, on Kerry, what ever happened to Amy.
    Now Shawn, now snuzcook, now Doug and Peter
    I can’t name them all there’s no time on the meter.

    And then in a twinkling, I have an idea,
    With a mind like this, I should work at IKEA.
    And then the next moment my mind is a blank,
    Damn this old brain, how much scotch have I drank.

    I turn to the chimney where the stockings are hung,
    Why don’t I ever get one, a sad song is sung.
    I look at the presents spread under the tree,
    And then I remember I forgot to watch Glee.

    I consider the last stanza, the one I just wrote,
    The timing is off so I take off my coat.
    And that last desperate sentence, a pitiful try,
    I should sign off now, before you all cry.

    As I continue to babble on this long winter’s night,
    The words are a blur and the rhyming a fright.
    I work in a Merry Christmas for everyone to see,
    I admonish myself for so blatant a plea.

    So if you somewhat enjoyed this ridiculous romp,
    If you were able to overlook the obvious pomp.
    If you think it is brilliant with witticism to spare,
    You may want to consider a councilor’s care.

    But if you are thinking this is nothing but drivel,
    Please don’t remind me, for a shit I don’t givel.
    On and on, this thing seemingly goes,
    I doubt I’ll be accused of writing good prose.

    The Christmassy theme that I started to write,
    All went to hell with these words all a fright.
    The crazy lines now, I don’t bother to tweak,
    Perhaps I’ll come up with winner on Tuesday next week.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Oh boy! jhowe. “This Is To Marvelous For Words” ‘mI sorry I stole a song title. But it is unique and so personal, I can visualize you writing while the house is asleep.
        This is one of the most creative pieces of writing I have ever had the pleasure of reading.

      1. PromptPrincess13

        I was cracking up laughing with this one from beginning to end. Such a creative, absolutely inspired piece! I may have to start seriously considering a councilor’s care, because this was brilliant.

  41. NoBlock

    Twas the Night for Krampus

    Twas the eve of St. Nick’s Day, and out beyond the house,
    Every being was stirring from their insides out.

    The spider webs were hung in the corners with care,
    In hopes for a juicy, small morsel to snare.

    The children clung tight to their blankets with fear,
    They could tell from the odor, that Krampus was near.

    With a pit in our stomachs, and the walls at our backs,
    There’d be no slumber tonight, yes we all knew that.

    When the dogs began howling, and the cats ran for cover,
    Mamma lit a candle and I lit another.

    We dead bolted the doors and nailed shut all the windows,
    But he can’t be kept out, or so the legend goes.

    The moon was blacked out, so the hills they were dark,
    What was our town prior, was now Krampus’s play park.

    His laugh was so shrill as it echoed through the ‘hood,
    The chills up my spine told me he was up to no good.

    To frighten the children was his favorite game,
    Their bodies did tremble when he called them by name.

    Come Susan, come Brian, you’ll surely pay the toll,
    I’m not leaving this town without both your souls.

    The shudders did rattle, and the walls did heave,
    What I saw next I could hardly believe.

    With a bright flash of light and a great ball of flame,
    Standing before me was a beast with a cane.

    He had wild eyes, long horns and a tongue lashing about,
    The children screamed and mamma passed out.

    Krampus cracked his whip at the children with pleasure,
    He came empty handed, but would leave with his treasure.

    He devoured their souls with quite a mighty hunger,
    Then prepared to leave and go hunt another.

    With a belly full of souls, he departed their town,
    Prancing through the woods, with no reason to frown!

    1. Kerry Charlton

      Holy Cow! Where was John Wayne and the calvery..? Absolutely terrifying tale you’ve woven here. So descriptive and in perfect sinc. What am imaginative horror story. I thought maybe the flash of light might be the Savior. Someone needs to write a rescue sequel.

      How about you?

    2. Observer Tim

      Personally, my mind wanders more to Black Peter, but Krampus is a wonderful and creepy holiday tradition. There’s many a day I’m happy that Europeans (and just about everybody else except us North Americans) are not afraid to scare the bejeebers out of our kids…

      Merry Christmas, NoBlock!

  42. snuzcook

    CHOICES

    In the silence of night, my body was frozen.
    At least I felt safe in the shelter I’d chosen.

    In the old empty house I hoped I’d be alone,
    Around me the only things truly my own:

    A battered brown backpack crammed with my clothes,
    A threadbare old Teddybear missing his nose.

    Moonlight shone in where the windows were boarded
    To reveal the small stash of food I had hoarded.

    Wrapped in a blanket I found by the door
    I curled in a ball to sleep there on the floor.

    The old house echoed and each tiny sound
    Would wake me, startle me, make my heart pound.

    With the creak of a door in the back of the house.
    I ran to the shadows as quick as a mouse.

    A dark figure stood, the moon shining behind.
    His back bowed and hunched, his face deeply lined.

    He said not a word, though he knew I was there.
    He opened a sack with almost comical flair.

    He hummed as he pulled out a warm winter sweater
    A pink one, my size—I had never seen better.

    Then warm socks and mittens he pulled from his pack,
    A scarf and a jacket, then a warm knitted cap.

    Finally he looked at me and beckoned me come.
    Still, I waited and watched. I’m less trusting than some.

    He sighed. “They’re my daughter’s,” he said, “Now she’s grown.
    I thought you might use them until you go home.

    “You see, I was once on the streets just like you.
    I was young, I was scared, didn’t know what to do.

    “Life on your own can be full of pain.
    I hate to see anyone go through that again.

    “So if you are hungry, or tired or cold,
    Please come to my house; it’s just down the road.

    “My wife has baked cookies, and the cocoa is warm.
    Come just for an hour. What could it harm?”

    Mutely I studied him from the place where I stood.
    My fears shouted NO; still I thought maybe I could.

    After he left, I picked up the presents.
    They were warm and smelled of fresh cookie essence.

    Of all the choices I’ve made, the one made that night
    Was probably the first one I had chosen so right.

    I went to his house, and I’ve lived there since then.
    My own daughter, in fact, has just last week turned ten.

    That’s the age that I was when those two took me in.
    I found love, a warm home, I began living again.

    The moral I guess, is that miracles occur
    when we reach out to each other; that’s what hands are for.

    1. Kerry Charlton

      It’s so perfect for the season. So warm, so touching and so wonderful. The last sentence should be read by everyone that never had a dream or those that lost their dream and wandered away. And to those that can and should help but turn a deaf ear to unpleasentness and hunger and morose.

    2. jhowe

      Snuzcook, damn, I bow to you. The lines just got better and better. If I had to choose a favorite it would be “Moonlight shone in where the windows were boarded, To reveal the small stash of food I had hoarded.” What a wonderful poem.

      1. PromptPrincess13

        Not a downer at all snuzcook, more like a story to restore faith in humanity. You captured the spirit of giving perfectly. “Mutely I studied him from the place where I stood. My fears shouted NO; still I thought maybe I could.” Genius.

  43. Observer Tim

    A Visit From Old Nick

    ‘Twas the night after Christmas and at my address
    Gift papers were strewn in a Christmastide mess.
    My wife and I, reeling from holiday booze,
    Had just snuggled in for a winter night’s snooze;
    When up from the parlour there came such a boom
    As awakens a dead man from out of his tomb.
    I grabbed for my robe and I crawled out of bed
    To deal with invaders in my own homestead.
    “What fiend could it be?” I most drowsily wondered,
    As semi-unconsciously downstairs I blundered;
    A burglar I thought, or perhaps a stray cat?
    Well, whoever it is, we shall see about that.
    I tripped on the carpet and fell down the stairs
    There goes the chance to catch him unawares.
    When I looked in the parlour I espied him right quick
    And I knew in an instant it must be Old Nick.
    The devil was downing a bottle of gin
    And he beckoned at me to stand up and come in.

    “Now Clement”, he said, “Your poem’s in the books
    “About old Saint Nicky, the patron of crooks.
    “And I thought how those verses augmented his station;
    “Mayhaps you could tone down my bad reputation.”

    “But you,” I replied, “are the Lord of the Flies!
    “What can I write that would not be just lies?
    “You’re an evil old bastard, a cheat and a thug
    “And those are your good points, you horrible slug.”

    “No need to be spiteful you unthinking lad,
    “You merely must write that it’s good to be bad.
    “There’s plenty of room for my views to chime in;
    “After all I’ve been here since the very first sin.
    “There are so many things that you humans do wrong
    “You implicitly beg me to tag right along.
    “You strut and you preen and act over your station:
    “Sing praises to me and boost your reputation!”

    “Now look here, you devil, I won’t sing your laud,
    “My allegiance is first to the One Holy God.”

    “No need to get angry, old Clement my lad
    “You know how I hate it when humans get mad.
    “Oh wait, I applaud it, like envy and greed;
    “Perhaps it’s a little refreshment you need.”

    With an uncanny smile and a wave of his claws
    He laid out a spread to give trenchermen pause.

    “Dig in, Clement; eat ‘til your hunger is sated,
    “All that moderation is way overrated.
    “And after you dine lie down here for a nap;
    “I can conjure a beauty to dance in your lap.”

    “I have thoroughly partied and kept a great feast,
    “but refuse your temptation to act like a beast.
    “My Lord Jesus Christ is my God and my guide
    “And his heavenly power will keep you from my side!

    So I walked up to him where he stood on the floor
    And kicked his caboose ‘till he ran out the door;
    But I heard him exclaim as he slunk down the lane,
    “This isn’t the end, I’ll be coming again.”

    1. jhowe

      Great one OT. I’m so glad Clement stood up to the evil one. Nice depiction of the Moore family on Boxing Day. Good blend of humor (humour), evilness and faith.

  44. Kerry Charlton

    ‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

    “Twas the night before Christmas, I felt like a louse
    My girl friend Lola, playing for keeps, snuck into the house
    Her panty hose was hung in the bathroom on a dare
    In hopes my wife would find them there

    My children were asleep, feet clad with their Keds
    While visions of eminent disaster, danced in my head
    And Lola in her natural state and I willing to take the rap
    Had just had a tryst, as she led me to her trap

    When out in the driveway, my wife stood in a chatter
    With her girl friend, she placed on my window, a ladder
    I locked the sash after sprinting a ten yard dash
    And escorted Lola to the mud room , next to the trash

    The moon shined on her breast; it was quite a show
    I almost forgot the story I had to know
    To tell my wife as she drew near
    Or I would feel her wrath as she whipped my rear

    With her grip on my golf driver so nimble and quick
    I knew in a moment I would receive a lick
    More rapid than eagles, the grim reaper came
    He whistled, shouted and called my name

    I fled to the mud room, grabbed Lola, my little kitten
    And headed for the door, for I was truly smitten
    I grabbed the ladder and threw it to the wall
    And dashed away, dashed away to the roof so tall

    Upon the roof Santa’s reindeer were prepared to fly
    I slammed the chimney cover closed and with a sigh
    I took Santa’s reins and left the old geezer in a stew
    And away with toys and Lola at my side, we flew

    And then in a flash, I heard from the roof
    The sound of a rifle that blew out my tooth
    As I turned my head and looked around
    A bullet passed though my brain with nary a sound

    I awoke in a sweat, all soaked to my foot
    I realized my dream had been quite a hoot
    When I turned to my wife who slept on her back
    I swore to myself never to eat barbeque by the rack

    I climbed from my bed dazed and in such a flurry
    My vision had gone dim and quite blurry
    I stumbled to the bathroom mirror, it was quite a blow
    The hair on my head had turned as white as snow

    The reflection of the stump of one of my teeth
    That appeared in the mirror caused much grief
    I quivered and shook like a bowl full of jelly
    And a sharp pain, did I feel in my belly

    Even though but just a dream, I felt a lack of self
    And decided to travel a journey to a life of wealth
    A wealth of happiness and of my family, a caring tread
    For a dream such as mine caused nothing but dread

    I spoke not a word but felt like a total jerk
    I vowed to myself, how hard I would work
    To celebrate Christmas as a new born rose
    And to give cheer from my nose to my toes

    I filled the stockings to the brim quick as a missle
    I woke my wife and children with a cheery whistle
    I heard my voice exclaim as they came in sight
    Happy Christmas to all for you’re quite a delight

    1. frankd1100

      Sitting at my desk, alone in the apartment and realize I’m laughing out loud looking for someone to share this with. Your talent is mixing humor with genuine love (of family frequently) or caring for others. You get inside, Kerry, which is I think what story telling is about.

      1. Kerry Charlton

        Thank you Frank, I appreciate your thoughts. I didn’t anticipate the direction of this story. Sometimes I just type and ride along with my tales. Usually, they end up completely different than the direction they start out. That’s what’s fun for me. I don’t have any plans for my own endings until ‘ve already I arrived there.

        Have a very merry Christmas and a healthy New Year!

  45. thejim

    ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town,
    Not a creature was stirring, there wasn’t a sound.
    All the cars were abandon like they just didn’t care,
    Fear, death, and gloom is what filled air.

    The people and children ran and covered their heads,
    While some would hide in basements others hid in sheds
    And Mama in her camo and I all in black,
    We hunkered in waiting for the aliens to attack.

    When out on the lawn a loud noise freaked me out,
    “Grab your ammo, get your guns,” I did shout.
    “Stay away from the windows.” I said with a yell,
    They’ll not take us alive they can all go to hell.

    The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
    Gave the luster of midday shinny objects below,
    When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
    But aliens with jet packs and they were drawing near

    Green little man, so lively and quick,
    Just the thought of them attacking made me sick.
    More rapid than eagles, to my house they all came,
    One whistled and shouted and called them by name:
    “Now Djubrer! Now Bryt!
    Now, Timbor and Fleep!
    On, Creyhr! On, Grez!
    On, Kipp and Cleap!
    To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!!
    Now Destroy! Destroy!
    Destroy it all!”

    As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
    When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
    So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
    Wave after wave, it was sort of like Deja vu.

    And then, with a thump, I heard over head.
    “There’s Aliens on the roof” is what I said.
    I drew my forty five and I turned around,
    Down the chimney they did come with a bound.

    First one was dressed in silver, from his head to his foot,
    And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
    With a gun in his hand an and one flung on his back,
    He looked like a green Oompa Loompa high on crack.

    His eyes–how they glowed! His head so large!
    I drew my gun for I feared, he would charge!
    His droll little mouth was drawn up in a grin,
    Now was my chance so I smacked him in the chin.

    He stumbled and staggered then spit out some teeth,
    There was a faint aura that encircled his head like a wreath.
    He had a broad face and a little round belly,
    I shot him in the gut his blood oozed like jelly.

    Two more appeared, one on the table one on the shelf,
    And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of myself.
    A wink of my eye I twisted his little head.
    With my trusty forty five, the other one was dead.

    I spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
    Shooting and punching I had gone berserk.
    And laying my finger on the trigger once more,
    I shot the last one and he flew out the front door.

    They sprang to their ship, to his team gave a whistle,
    And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
    But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere they flew out of sight,

    “Death to you all! And death to all Humans tonight”

  46. rainiemills

    Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the park,
    No gangsters were stirring, for it was too dark.
    The stockings were hid under the mattress with care,
    To ensure in the morning they still would be there.

    The munchkins were huddled in blankets on the floor,
    With visions of having much, much more.
    And mama was snuggled in her sweat pants all tight,
    All settled in for a long winter’s night.

    When out on the street a strange noise arose,
    People were singing and speaking in prose.
    Away from the door I said cause I know,
    If they think we’re not here they’ll just turn and they’ll go.

    The songs they got louder, I could hear all their cheer,
    They were brave souls, with nothing to fear.
    I watched them real closely, I won’t lie I was miffed,
    Then I saw it – a truck full of gifts.

    Who was this for, surely not for us,
    Then I saw it clearly on the side of the bus.
    In words of white lettering your salvation is here,
    Then a loudspeaker shouted, your wish has been granted my dear.

    They rushed to my door, presents in hand,
    From where they came, I will never understand.
    They came in real quick and left even quicker,
    Before any of my kids eyelids even flicker.

    In came blankets and clothes, dishes, toys, socks for our toes.
    Shoes and shampoo, even hair brushes and bows.
    A meal fit for kings, made of all of our favorite things,
    I swear if I didn’t know better, I’d say they had wings.

    For once in our life our future is bright,
    If only for one day and maybe one night.
    The tears in my eyes, made everything blurry,
    As the rest of the group rushed out in a hurry.

    Their reverence and cheer found its way to my heart,
    I decided Christmas will be our brand new start.
    I made up a plan and called it a night,
    To ensure our new life would start out just right.

    We’ll use this money, and pack up our clothes,
    To a destination that’s warm, where at who knows?
    A one way ticket out of this mess,
    To give my kids a good chance at success.

    No more screaming and yelling, no more gang fights,
    No more freezing toes on these cold, cold nights.
    No hiding our things to ensure their not taken,
    I’ll tell the kids as soon as they awaken.

    I reread the check to ensure I am right,
    Yep there’s enough for all five of our flights.
    A little more to get us set up, and well on our path,
    I could even afford a bathroom with its own bath.

    The joys that these strangers have given to me,
    Is something they will never see.
    My old life is behind me for that I won’t grieve,
    Their kindness has changed me and now I believe.

    A Christmas miracle is what it is,
    A few friendly faces, in and out in a whiz.
    Born a new chance for a family with no hope in sight,
    Merry Christmas to all – thanks for making it allright.

  47. cwhedon

    The Night before Christmas

    Twas the night before Christmas
    and all through the Hood
    me and my Homies
    were up to no good
    waiting for some guy
    to bring us our stash
    sad cuz we really were short on cash
    when out in the alley
    arose such a clatter
    we went out the fire escape
    and up the ladder
    the news was blaring from some radio
    we hit the rooftop with no place to go
    so we all crept over to peek down
    must have been every cop in this town
    blue and red lights flashing so bright
    this was not what we planned for the night
    the cops had a fat man down on the ground
    8 bags of weed scattered around
    the one cop looked up and yelled to the others
    “they’re on the roof top” that stupid muther
    The next thing I heard was “Get down on the ground”
    This came from a copter flying around
    “what a way” I thought to spend christmas night
    in lock up again, but we’ll be alright!

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