- Moderator (Bronze Member)
- Posts: 1997
- Joined: 30 Sep 2009, 20:53
'twas the night before Christmas the shops now were closed
the shoppers departed and gone
and rain clouds were gathering - we'd soon get hosed
as the silly season had begun.
Wild cyclones were gathering on our west shore,
in New South Wales bushfires were rampant once more
and reports of stingers on our Queensland shore
were reported - Oh such Christmas fun.
The moon through clouds shone with a silvery light
a mystic and magical thing,
away in the distance a storm bird took flight
and somewhere I heard sleigh bells ring.
Through an open doorway a girl ventured forth
her words spoken softly, still told of her wrath
a switchblade was held in her hand - so henceforth
caution was a sensible thing.
I gave her some money, I gave her some booze,
and a new shirt I thought that would fit.
Two presents I'd bought, but the need to diffuse
the situation, just called for it.
I'd no more to offer, so spoke careful words
for platitudes don't help - she'd heard most of those
living on the streets, all the highs and the lows
of the unloved, the unwashed misfit.
'twas the night before Christmas -as in days of old
a young lass was looking for shelter.
The inns were all full - but at least it weren't cold,
a heat wave had seen all folks swelter.
She turned with a mumbled apology said,
"I'm sorry I frightened you" and then she fled
and bright stars still twinkled in skies overhead,
no escape from the harsh cards fate dealt her.
see some scribbles here - http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/