A Poem. Sort Of.

This appeared as a guest thingy by me on Sally Cronin’s blog last Sunday. Some of you my nit have seen it. Shame on you but still, here it is. It’s another one of those ‘ruin a good poem’ ideas I’m working  on just now.

‘Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
The only sound to be heard
Was the old man, who’d grouse

‘Why is it my job
To play Santa each year
And eat the raw carrot
That’s left out for his deer?

While you get the sherry
And another mince tart
Knowing they’ll wake me
Before a sparrow can fart.’

‘You are such a whinge,’
Said the lady in charge,
‘For tomorrow we know
You’ll give it so large.

And over indulge
On turkey and stuffing
And after the Queen
You’ll be good for nuffing.’

‘That isn’t quite fair
Oh light of my life
Since I will shoulder
My share of the strife

That having your mother
To lunch will entail
As we all know that
By five and without fail

She will surely hold court
In front of the fire
Airing complaints
Of which she’ll not tire.’

‘Now hang on a mo,
Your dad ain’t much better.’
‘At least his moaning
Is confined to a letter.’

‘Oh husband, my love
Let’s us try and stay calm
And ride out the worst
Of these Christmas storms.

It’s only one day
Out of three sixty five
That one way or another
We just have to survive

And then we’ll go back
To life as before….’
‘And before we know it
It’s Christmas once more.’

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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27 Responses to A Poem. Sort Of.

  1. Ah yes, MIL for Christmas. She complained we would not turn on the TV so that she could watch her soaps. Two things here, we never watched soaps and when we had company, the TV stayed off. She whinged and sulked and finally demanded that if the TV wasn’t turned on, she wanted to go home. I got her coat and Hubby got the car keys.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Yep, its a day to be endured. I believe in this case the original poem has been improved in many ways. The plot is certainly more plausible and relatable. I suggest the old grump regift the raw carrot if he doesn’t want it.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. willowdot21 says:

    Christmas comes but once a year…
    Thank goodness!💜💜💜💜

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ritu says:

    Absolutely loved it!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. arlingwoman says:

    Ah, family holiday gatherings…

    Liked by 1 person

  6. There is something to be said for a nuclear family gathering….. I’m so looking forward to the MiL stories 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Why, may I ask, did you not submit this for the contest last week?

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Ah, the joys of family gatherings, Geoff. Funny! ‘And before we know it, it’s Christmas once more!’ I’m starting my shopping for 2020!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Ha ha really enjoyed reading it. Kudos for regaling me thoughtfully. If you have time do visit my poem Here

    Liked by 1 person

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