All I want for Christmas, Santa
Is a dragon, large and red.
I’ll take him out for daily walks
And he can sleep beneath my bed.
We’ll play lots of games together
Chasing balls around the park
Then, at home, sit upon my lap
Watching movies after dark
I’ll teach him loads of funny tricks
To sit, fetch, and roll over
Then bark at cats in the garden…
I might even call him Rover
We’ll laugh as he scares the postman
Delivering our post.
So, Santa, you can clearly see
It’s a dragon I want the most!
The simplest, sweetest message
That springs into my mind
Is to simply wish for peace,
A peace for all mankind
The haughty penguin sniffed,
The haughty penguin sighed.
Truly he loved Christmas,
But kept that fact inside!
The yin yang swan is graceful
The yin yang swan just glides.
While one is on the surface,
One underwater hides.
At the bottom of the garden
Embedded in the wall
Something just appeared:
A rusty looking door
Not sure when it came
It wasn’t yesterday.
I can hear it calling me:
“Want to come and play?”
Come on, world, please keep it down
Spent last night out on the town
From the off, on the doubles
Am blaming that, for my troubles
Clubbing’s never right for me
Yet there I was, till half three
Stumbled home at half past four
Fell asleep on bathroom floor
Woke for work at ten past eight
Feeling rough and in a state
Had to shower sitting down
World was spinning all around
Couldn’t face a bite to eat
Nearly threw up in the street
Fell asleep on journey in
Snoring loud and sweating gin
Got to work at half past nine
Wishing that I could resign
Must pretend to do some work
(Boss not in – the only perk)
My brain throbs to last night’s beat
Breath still smells of kebab meat
Cotton wool all through my head
Yearning to go back to bed
Tongue has turned the brightest green
Stomach’s churning’s quite obscene
Time to say a big amen:
I mean it… NEVER AGAIN!
All is dark and dismal
In the forest of the mind
Something evil’s lurking there…
Something older than mankind
Leafless trees reach for the sky
A mockery of hope
Nothing with colour grows there
It simply couldn’t cope
You’ll find there’s nowhere darker
Than the forest of the mind
Nothing there is real.
‘cept what you leave behind
This is my entry for the Susanna Leonard Hill holiday-story contest (350 words max – weather has to affect the holidays…)
SANTA AND THE WILD WIND (205 words)
The day that Santa had wind
(Wilder than you’d ever believe)
Was very poorly timed…
For it fell on Christmas Eve!
His tum was churning and gurgling
His face turned deepest green
He felt so thoroughly rotten
He was as ill as ever he’d been!
Nothing would settle his tum
No tonic was working that night
Till Rudolph had an idea
“Maybe it’s just stage fright?”
Santa had spent the whole year
Preparing night and day,
And now his hour had come,
Those nerves were starting to pay!
“We’ll be fine once we’re up and away”,
Assured his red-nosed friend
“When you feel the breeze in your beard,
All that churning will come to an end”
Santa smiled at Rudolph
And climbed on board his sled
Whizzing off round the world
Leaving presents while kids were in bed
All those nerves disappeared
When he put boot to pedal to floor.
No matter how wild the weather
Santa cried out for “more!”
The colour returned to his cheeks
As he found a familiar stride,
Chomping on every cookie left out
And gulping them down with pride!
Through storms and blizzards and thunder
The pair rode on without pause.
Everyone needs a friend sometimes
Even Santa Claus!
If vampires have no reflection,
How do they style their hair?
How do they brush their teeth,
Or practice their hypnotic stare?
How do they check their shirt’s tucked in,
Or that their tie is straight,
When entertaining potential brides-to-be
On a romantic date?
How do they cope with shaving
(Does undead hair still grow?)
Yes, there are many things about vampires
That I would like to know!
The Dragon Dread,
Brooding and red,
Sat and digested the knight.
It had been a short fight
Once he’d chomped off his head,
And now he was ready for bed
The Dragon Dread,
Suffered the knight’s final act.
His intestinal tract, came under attack!
From all that armour, Dread bled.
Dread bled till Dread was stone dead