Tag Archives: Christmas

‘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.

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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.

“66 days to Chrumble!”


The sight of

A sprig of holly

Doesn’t make me jolly;

And a Yule Log

Just brings on a fog –

“It’s sixty-six days to Christmas!” the man on the radio announced.
And you can tell that I’m happy about this

By the smile upon my face

And the sound of joy in my voice.

Are we there yet?

image

Only ninety-three days to Christmas!
That’s just thirteen weeks and two days!
I did the Maths.
Actually, to be almost precise,
It’s two thousand, two hundred and twenty hours and fifty-six minutes
At this very moment
In the time zone that I am in –
Which is nice
And if you don’t believe in Christmas
It doesn’t matter a Jack toad’s natter
If it’s today, tomorrow, or never.

Short (in the number of words – exactly correct in its syllable count) Haiku

imageQ

Short(ish) Haiku

Unbelievable
Indefinability;
Creativity.


‘Book NOW For Christmas!’ by Graeme Sandford

Screenshot_2014-08-22-10-49-30-1-1

‘BOOK NOW FOR CHRISTMAS!”

That was what the sign advised.

But, I thought, what did it really mean?

 

If it had said:”SOCKS NOW FOR CHRISTMAS!”

I would have understood exactly, but,

Socks are socks, one left, one right, usually in a matching pair and with either a less-than-humourous motto, or a colour scheme to make you heave… or both!

But a book is a matter of self:

I would rather not have Fergie’s autobiography (Sarah or Sir Alex) and I like my authors, to be of an ilk.

I would have to know somebody very well indeed to even consider purchasing them… a book!

So, the sign has exclaimed, where it could have questioned.

Advice given, against a suggestion of the contemplation of perhaps… possibly… maybe… maybe not… buying a book… as a present… for somebody… for Christmas… which is still three months away!

But as for buying oneself a book? Well, that’s a different matter.

 And now, today, it’s ‘SUPER THURSDAY'”

Haiku: ‘Twelve’ by Graeme Sandford

12_Days_of_Christmas
Christmas: Day One dawns...
A bird of some kind... with 'tree!'
What is going on?

Day Two... What's in store?
More birds (but, no more 'pear' trees)
NB: Get Bird Seed.

Day Three: More wildfowl!
Now getting beyond a joke;
What next, I wonder.

Day Four: Learning French;
Having to build aviary;
Need some counseling!

Day Five: Delivery;
By two security men
In armoured vehicle!

Day Six: Pawned the rings;
Bought a good set of ear muffs;
Honking, Squawking birds!

Day Seven: Enough!
What can I do with these swans?
I can't eat the things?

Day Eight: What! For real?
It's like that old Christmas song
I'm not taking this!

Day Nine: All sorted.
Restraining Order granted;
Refused the Dancers!

Day Ten: Went to beach.
Left a note on my front door:
'Not today, thank you!'

Day Eleven: Birds gone.
They flew, waddled, swam, were sold;
And, 'peace' now returns.

Day Twelve: Knock at door!
"You ungrateful little sh..."
"Sorry, just moved in."