Tag Archives: Christmas

December will be magic again.

December will be,

as Kate sang,

magic again.

or,

December,

as Kate sang,

will be magic again.

or,

it won’t.

But, the future

has not yet been written,

and may go many ways.

So, 1980s Kate

may have been right,

may yet be right,

or…

well, let us wait and see.

Who knows which way the wind will blow?

Beans

Beans

Jane and I were discussing our shopping needs for Christmas, and what kind of beans we needed; Jane said ‘Baked beans!’ And I said, ‘Magic beans’ – we compromised, and got ‘Baked beans.”

But, with my input, at least they were ‘Magic’ Baked beans!

Chuck to Liz

Chuck to Liz

Merry Christmas, Mummy dear,

may your pressies all be

super;

and your Queenish speech

be out of reach,

with no unoccasioned blooper.

It’s Only Christmas.

It’s only Christmas.

It’s only Christmas,

happens ev’ry year;

it’s only Christmas,

too much food and too much beer;

It’s only Christmas,

Deck the halls,

and la la la la la

la la la

la.

Sir Mordarthur.

LWG Christmassy Thing for 2019 – Sir Mordarthur.

‘It was the knight before Christmas.’

‘What was, dear?’

‘At the door. A knight in shining armour. He was selling his services door-to-door.‘

‘What sort of services, dear? We could do with some new tea-towels.’

‘Tea-towels? Hardly something that a Knight of the Round Table would interest himself in.’

‘Round Table? We could do with a new table cloth, too. Had he anything in that line?’

‘He was asking if we needed any dragons slain, evil wizards brought to justice, or any quests that were needing to be undertaken.’

‘Hmmmm. We don’t really believe in the slaying of dragons – all animals have a natural right to swoop upon poor unsuspecting townsfolk – if that’s the sort of thing they do.’

‘Exactly. And I don’t think we have any dragons in these parts – a few lizards, the odd tortoise – nothing that requires a knightly seeing-to.’

‘And no cotton goods, whatsoever?’

‘No.’

‘Couldn’t we have sent him on a quest to seek a Holy tea-towel. There must have been a venerable Saint somewhen in the past that used one to wash up the tea things – that would make it a holy relic.’

‘That’s a possibility. I’ll run out after him and see if he’s up for a bit of questing. He’s probably stopped in the village at the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD), for a pint of mead.’

‘Okay. But, please stress that we desperately need at least one tea towel to dry up the Christmas things.’

‘I shall. Perhaps I can lay it on thick about the difficulty we have using bundles of straw to try and clean the plates – most unsatisfactory.’

He left, the door closing behind him.

Well, it was the knight before Christmas, and maybe, just maybe, a tea-towel could be found at short notice by a noble knight of the Round Table.

And, maybe, just maybe Thomas The Malory and Daisy also The Malory would be able to carry out a proper post-Christmas washing-up operation.

Thomas The Malory soon reached the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD), and was relieved to see a huge charger tied up outside of the pub – it was Jimmy the Mediaeval Spiv, who charged over 4000% APR (All Pennies Recovered) on his ‘loaning of monies’ scheme – however, he was currently unable to answer any of Thomas The Malory’s questions on the availability of a payday loan at decent rates as he was a little tied up at the moment.

Leaving Jimmy the Mediaeval Spiv to rue upon the error of his Mediaeval ways, Thomas the Malory entered into the public bar of the George & Dragon (Est. 427AD) and then entered into conversation with the local yokels. They quickly pointed out that the seven-foot tall gentleman in the shiny armour was probably the questing-type Knight that he was looking for.

Thomas The Malory walked across the crowded public bar area, and into the reverential space that existed around the metal-clad potential quester and greeted the knight in the traditional manner,

“Y’arright?

What ya drinking, Sir knight,

may I, on your best behest,

on payment of a quest,

perchance purchase you

of another brew?”

The Knight, unaccustomed as he was to public bar speaking, nodded gravely, upon which action his visor slipped down with an almighty, ‘clang!’

Having huge decoratively decorated gauntlets upon his hand-areas, the noble knight was unable then to reopen his visor, or drink his drink (and, straws, having recently been outlawed, were not an option). Thomas The Malory saw an opening. Into which he poked a fire rod from the nearby fire. After a good deal of prising, the visor conceded defeat and rose with a ‘creeeeeeeeak!’

“Okay.” said the knight – for he was a worthy knight, for all that he was anachronistic – and slightly drunk, “I shall grant you the quest that you behest, I shall do my best, and shall not rest, until… I have travelled East, and I have travelled West (possibly going in all the other directions, too) until I have brought you that which you request.” and having said such, he gathered his wits about him and left the public bar of the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD) and set off in a generally Southerly direction.

‘It was the Knight before Christmas.’

‘Was that who was at the door?’

‘Yes.’ said Thomas The Malory to his darling Daisy also The Malory. He left us this.’

‘Is it a tea-towel?’ asked the darling Daisy also The Malory.

‘Well…’ said Thomas The Malory, ‘I think that the knight may have misheard my words and requirements when we were stood in the public bar of the George & Dragon Public House (Est. 427AD).’

‘Why? What has the noble knight quested for us?’

“Well, it’s not a tea-towel: it’s a different type of towel, altogether; it’s a teat-owl, and it’s just had babies.’

The washing-up would have to wait for another year.

“I was the nit before Christmas!”

“I was the nit before Christmas!”

as for after…

I was not that nit,

I was another nit entirely.

Older, obviously;

wiser, unlikely;

a paper shade of pink?

Who knows?

I do not have a colour chart with which to compare my fleshy tones;

chart my progress from Grae to Black,

and back.

I don’t know what the next line is…

Perhaps I should end here,

whilst I am a head?

Quite random, methinks.

It’s what I do.

G:)

On the Cornish Lanes at Christmas.

On the Cornish Lanes at Christmas

On the Cornish roads

there is very little traffic

when there is usually loads;

on the Cornish lanes it’s business as usual

apart from the noticeable lack

of a tractor –

perhaps Christmas is a factor?

Christmas Day Haiku

Christmas Day Haiku

Merry Christmas peeps;

hoping that you are gifted

with some brand new words.

‘Twas the meeting before Christmas! #LWG

‘Twas the meeting before Christmas!

LWG for 04/12/2018

Prompt: Christmas

‘‘twas the meeting before Christmas,

in old Stuart House,

and all the brave writers

were unaware of a mouse,

who was chewing on paper

whose fine words were at risk,

for they, the bold writers of Lisk,

had been careless as to where they stored their stories, kept their tales of seas and sails.

The mouse was oblivious

as to the worth of the words;

the adjectives sublime;

some similes quite fine,

and one compelling metaphor,

never heard before.

“Nibble, nibble!” nibbled the mouse. his stomach filling with verbs, as he happily chewed.

“When I grow up I want to be a writer!” He exclaimed. On and on he chewed.

“I’ve devoured many epics, some longer than need be;

short stories and poems-

the writers don’t heed me-

and I quite liked the comedy writings of some;

although they cause a funny

feeling when they got to my tum.

Nibble, nibble!” nibbled the mouse.

“And now for our homework!” was announced to the room. “Our prompt was ‘Christmas’. to brighten the gloom

of a dark December’s day;

who shall go first, start off reading today?”

They ‘ummmmed’ and they ‘ahhhhed’ and then one did speak:

“I’ve written a story about a Christmassy Week.”

The story told, the response quite pleasing, a circular route to read was now teasing. But, clockwise or widdershins? Which way would it go? It always varied, so no one did know.

“I’ll go next!” from the clockwise direction. The rest now relaxed by this natural selection.

“My story is about the state of the National Elf at Christmas!” We did laugh. And this was followed by many a fine sentence and adroit paragraph. Until the story had been told with sufficient aplomb. “That was most uplifting!” a voice spake from the room.

SO, clockwise we travelled, the stories well told; one about Christmas Trees, and one of The Old, Old Christmases before rationing ended; when an orange was thrilling, and a broken stick mended.

Then it came to my turn.

What should I say?

What had I written Upon Christmas, for today?

I took a deep breath…

prepared all my words…

and began:

‘‘‘twas the meeting before Christmas

in Old Stuart House…”

“Nibble, nibble, nibble!” nibbled on the mouse.

Season’s Greetings!

Season’s Greetings!

My first Christmas

was almost my last;

and last Christmas

was our first in Cornwall.

The past is behind us

the future ahead;

we learn how to live

‘cause one day we dead.