The exercise:
Christmas is only three days away! Quick, write a four line poem about: Rare Exports.
I discovered this one while searching for dark Christmas movies. From the reviews and descriptions I've read, it definitely fits the bill!
Today ended on a rather disappointing note, as Kat's brother and his family did not arrive as scheduled. Their flight from up north to Vancouver went fine, but then the flight from there to Penticton wasn't able to land due to fog. So they're spending the night in Vancouver and hopefully arriving in the early afternoon tomorrow.
At which point Max will get to meet his aunt, uncle, and 15-month old cousin for the first time.
We're particularly looking forward to that.
Mine:
He's running a North Pole trade,
But he's doing it in secret;
We all know who to talk to
When we need an elven pet.
4 comments:
That's quite a find and appears to harken back to the ur-legends of Christmas, before Coca-cola dressed up Santa Claus and Disnified him (it). Actually, as you probably remember, I quite dislike Disney's inability to tell children a real story.
I hope your brother-in-law and his family get up to Penticton ok today; at least they had a little time for set-backs. Christmas on the week-end always seems to make things that little bit harder for everyone.
Heh, I like your poem. I shall be rewriting my letter to Santa immediately...!
Rare exports
Santa's selling Yeti
As rare, exotic meat,
He's dodging export tax:
He calls it Christmas treats!
Hi Marc! A very merry Christmas to you! It's been roughhly a year-and-a-half at least since I've posted here, so I doubt you'll remember me, but an English project involving a blog brought me back, and then I remembered about you and visited. I'm glad to hear you had a baby! When was Max born? I wish the rest of your family safe travels, and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas!
Cups of Good Cheer
Santa deals once a year,
Filling up cups of good cheer.
Always brimming, always full,
Christime is never dull.
But there's one drink you may know,
Out of Santa's tap does flow,
Quite unique to Santa's place,
People flock to taste its grace.
Where he gets it I don't know,
But it makes your cheeks to glow
Christmas warmth from all around,
Egg nog, egg nog, much abound.
Also, I accidentally just made it four line stanzas... My bad.
Greg - yeah, I might have to actually find a copy and watch it, as I am now intrigued.
Hah! Well, one can hardly blame the guy - he's got to do something with all that free time during non-holiday hours!
Andrew - hello and welcome back! And I do remember you; well, your name at least. It's been a bit too busy a stretch for me to remember much more than that :P
Max was born November 7th, so he'll be seven weeks old on Boxing Day. Thank you for your well wishes and a merry Christmas to you too!
Ah, can't go wrong with an ode to eggnog :D And no need to apologize for bonus poetry on Saturdays :D
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