The fight before Christmas
(A twist on Clement Moore's 1822 Poem
"The Night before Christmas")
© Myrle North
It was the night before Christmas when all through the house
not a person was stirring especially my Spouse
With the smells of cinnamon scenting the air
I hung the stockings by the chimney with care
While my spouse was soundly asleep in his bed;
visions of things to do whirled around in my head.
So I got into my nightie; then put out the cat
and had just settled down for a well-deserved nap.
Then from out in the garden I heard such a clatter
so I ran to my window to see what was the matter.
As I peered into the darkness I heard a loud crash
and I saw the dog from next door tipping over our trash.
Soon what to my wandering eyes did appear?
On my lawn was my neighbour; drinking a beer.
The moon gave lustre of mid-day below
so I called out and told him where he should go.
Although he was drunk he was lively and quick
and more rapid than eagles he began to pick
the rubbish; which he hurled at my window pane
and in a drunken stupor he called me a name.
So I ran down the stairs and soon was out on the lawn
I decided to make him wish that he'd never been born
then I gave him back what he'd said word for word.
But he retaliated with words that I'd never heard.
Fed up with his language I called him a jerk
then I picked up some rubbish and went to work,
I was having such fun and soon laughed at the sight
I couldn't believe how I acted that night.
The stump of a carrot I'd stuffed into his teeth,
and some coils of cooked spaghetti shrouded him like a wreath
He had a broad face and well-rounded belly
and as he began to laugh it shook like jelly
Then the dog began barking at such a sight
I've never laughed as much as I did that night
When I left the scene chuckling and went into the house...
no-one knew what had happened... not even my spouse.
(To be continued)
Photos: Valerie Bourke & Stanley Barker