Smile – It’s Christmas

My favorite irreverent poem for Christmas Eve is Shel Silverstein’s Christmas Dog. Read it again – here.

Looking for inspiration, I found another short popular poem by Silverstein:

Unknown“i made myself a snowball
As perfect as can be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet,
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for it’s head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first – It wet the bed.”

And…another poem from a favorite author, Phyllis McGinley:

Office Party

This holy night in open forum
     Miss Mcintosh, who handles Files,
Has lost one shoe and her decorum.
     Stately, the frozen chairman smiles

On Media, desperately vocal.
     Credit, though they have lost their hopes
Of edging toward an early Local,
     Finger their bonus envelopes.

The glassy boys, the bursting girls
    Of Copy, start a Conga clatter
To a swung carol.  Limply curls
     The final sandwich on the platter

Till hark!  a herald Messenger
     (Room 414) lifts loudly up
His quavering tenor.  Salesmen stir
     Libation for his Lily cup.

“Noel,” he pipes, “Noel, Noel.”
     Some wag beats tempo with a ruler.
And the plump blonde from Personnel
     Collapses by the water cooler. 

And, finally,  a lovely one to dream on by Walter de la Mare:

UnknownMistletoe

Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen—and kissed me there.

Unknown

 

The Girl Who Saved Christmas

51cf-a9vJjL._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_   Listening to the audiobook of Matt Haig’s A Boy Called Christmas had me thinking I was listening to Santa.    Haig’s follow-up book this year is The Girl Who Saved Christmas; I was hooked from the first lines:

“Do you know how magic works?  The kind of magic that gets reindeer to fly in the sky? The kind that helps Father Christmas travel around the world in a single night? The kind that can stop time and make dreams come true?  Hope.  That’s how.  Without hope, there would be no magic.”

Maria Russo in the New York Times says:

” If somewhere in the afterlife Roald Dahl met Charles Dickens and they cooked up a new Christmas tale, it couldn’t have much on this fleet, verbally rambunctious, heart-stealing follow-up to “A Boy Called Christmas,” set in Victorian London (with cameos by Dickens himself). Amelia Wishart, the first child to have gotten a gift from Father Christmas, is orphaned and sent to a workhouse. At the North Pole, magic levels plummet. Christmas is in jeopardy, and Father Christmas is in custody. Amelia to the rescue? We’d all better believe it.”

0511-1009-2806-0628 Santa magically delivered this story to my iPhone this morning. Just what I wanted – a book for Christmas.

Did you get a book for Christmas?

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Listen to David Sedaris – the Christmas Elf

Not long ago I happily listened to David Sedaris in person when he was on stage in Hawaii; listening to Sedaris’ humorous twang is the best Christmas present you can give yourself.

National Public Radio (NPR) often broadcasts one of his short essays in his Santaland Diaries for Christmas on its Morning Edition.

gettyimages-121693538_wide-c0d6eff165889478fc5410961250f07b2259ef6d-s800-c85.jpgThis Christmas Eve, after you read “The Night Before Christmas,” listen to Crumpet, who recounts the true-life tale of an out-of-work writer’s stint as a Macy’s Department Store elf – David Sedaris as an Elf.

 

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A Poem for Christmas

MISTLETOEunknown

by Walter de la Mare

Sitting under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
One last candle burning low,
All the sleepy dancers gone,
Just one candle burning on,
Shadows lurking everywhere:
Some one came, and kissed me there.

Tired I was; my head would go
Nodding under the mistletoe
(Pale-green, fairy mistletoe),
No footsteps came, no voice, but only,
Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,
Stooped in the still and shadowy air
Lips unseen—and kissed me there.

Christmas Dog

One of my favorite Christmas poems from one of my favorite poets…

 CHRISTMAS DOG  

by Shel Silverstein

Tonight’s my first night as a watchdog,
And here it is Christmas Eve.

The children are sleepin’ all cozy upstairs,

While I’m guardin’ the stockin’s and tree.
What’s that now–footsteps on the rooftop?

Could it be a cat or a mouse?

Who’s this down the chimney?

A thief with a beard–

And a big sack for robbin’ the house?
I’m barkin’ I’m growlin’ I’m bittin’ his butt.

He howls and jumps back in his sleigh.

I scare his strange horses, they leap in the air.

I’ve frightened the whole bunch away.
Now the house is all peaceful and quiet again,

The stockin’s are safe as can be.

Won’t the kiddies be glad when they wake up tomorrow

And see how I’ve guarded the tree.