Christmas is around the corner. Many people have different traditions this time around. I want you to write a poem about anything Christmas Eve related. Weather it's a tradition of your family, a holiday treat, or waiting for Christmas presents.
You can do whatever style of a poem that you wish to do.
Here is a short list to help you get started:
Presents under the tree Setting out cookies and milk for Santa
Eggnog Hours til Christmas
A Christmas Eve dinner/ treat
I also encourage you to use bbcodesto make your poem(s) look pretty! Using Shadow Poetrywill also help you for structure ideas. Have fun and be creative! Don't hesitate to ask questions!
Ooo! Ooo! Must write poem!! Please don't let it be too late :(
The Christmas tree stood quiet, still
Naked in the darkened room
Scuffling sounds; snow dropped on the windowsill;
And then the clattering of hooves
The roof’s on fire with them! Like flames
They pit and patter in the night
And, “Whoa, whoa! Watch the candy canes!”
Reverberates to their delight.
Yes, they are there: two cute young twins. Their time has come!
For years they have been waiting.
“Oh, come on, where is that bum?” growls one.
(Their patience is abating.)
“Ho, ho, ho!” reverberates into the dark.
The idly crackling chimney fire mysteriously goes out.
The Christmas tree lights up without a spark!
And with a hop, a flash of crimson, Santa takes his usual route!
The children ready themselves to pounce! But where’d he go?
“Oh, darn, oh daft, oh duffle-dorkins!” comes a breathless moan.
“Oh, dammit, not again already! What dastartated luck!
“These chimneys must be getting smaller. Once again I’m stuck!”
The twins retreated behind the couch, blue.
This was a surprise not according to plan.
But glancing at one another, they knew what to do.
One slid something heavy into a saucepan.
“Oh, good Claus!” cried the other. “Whatever’s the matter?”
“Do you need any help?” called out the latter.
“Uh – *heave, scrape* – no – *scrape, scrape* – no, uh – *heave* – I’m – *scrape, curse* – I’m fine!”
Came a rasping and gasping reply.
The twins exchanged glances. “We’ll each pull a foot!” they shouted.
“Come on! We want presents, and you’re losing time.”
“Well, all right,” grumbled Santa, who did want to be outed;
The chimney was dark, cold, and covered in grime.
“Heave!” cried the children, each tugging a foot.
“Ow!” bellowed Santa. “You’re wrenching them out!”
Then, with a plonk, he landed in soot.
“About time,” Santa muttered, with an unbidden scowl.
He stood up and brushed himself off with a sigh.
“Mrs. Claus will just kill me!” he muttered. “What luck!”
As the children watched tensely, he scratched his thigh
And then, with a heave and an arch of his back, he produced from his pants the SACK.
Before he knew it, war was upon him.
Shouts and yells drowned out his own calls for aid!
A clatter of a saucepan (he’d been wondering what it was doing outside of the kitchen)
And one twin advances with a bat in his hand. “Sweet dreams,” they said.
But for an echoing cry in his head, all went black.
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! THE SACK!”
The children pounced on it, just when lights flickered on
In the back of the house. They froze and rolled Santa beneath the divan
Just as Mom and Dad entered. “What was that ruckus?”
They inquired crossly. “And what’s in the sack?” they added quite bossily.
“Santa was here!” cried out one with a smile. “He gave his sack to us!”
Mom and Dad raised their eyebrows. “Now, don’t be silly!”
“No really!” called one, pouring out the sack’s contents with glee.
Presents in all shapes and sizes, glistening wrapping paper, came tumbling out.
Mom frowned, turned to Dad. “I didn’t know you already - and so many!”
Dad stared. “I haven’t yet,” he said, eyes overshadowed with doubt.
Mom laughed aloud and patted his back. “Oh, how sweet,” she said.
She turned to the twins. “Now, do get some sleep, all right?”
She smiled at Dad. “Let’s get back to bed.”
He followed her numbly out into the hall, leaving the children alone in the night.
“Okay,” said the first. “We’ll open presents later.
“Right now we must get rid of the … evidence.”
“Let’s just carry him onto the sidewalk,” said the other. “Who’ll know better?
“They’ll just think he’s a hobo, maybe throw him some cents.”
The deed was done quickly and in a flash they were back
Under the tree, opening presents,
The gifts of their labor, the rewards of the sack.
“Hey! What’s this!” called one, who had unwrapped the seventh.
“Oh, no, look at mine! It’s the same!”
Cried the other, who had opened the fifth.
They tore ajar also the fourth and the eighth.
They unwrapped each beauteous gift.
But all were the same – each was filled to the brim
With nothing but cold, blackened coals.
“He couldn’t have done this to every kid!”
They protested, but nothing would change what they stole.
They stuffed it all in the sack and ran out to the lawn –
But Santa was nowhere to be seen.
They shouted up at the roof, but the reindeer were gone
As dawn sunlight flooded the street.
Family gathers with Christmas cheer,
with verbose discussions of the previous year.
It’s been three seconds and my father already reeks of beer,
fulfilling all my previous fears.
You see they tell you Christmas is about family and mirth,
They forget to mention the corrosion of self worth
or the snarling, screaming, kicking birth
of despair and sustained periods of rough.
You know whatever present you get won’t be good enough,
So give up!
And buy the bastards store credit.
At least then you won’t regret it,
when you see them returning those costly, heartfelt presents.
Because you see Christmas is all about consumerism,
And causing family rifts and schisms,
forgetting any pleasant mannerisms,
Loathing others and yourself,
Drinking yourself into bad health,
Abusing anyone who dare try to help.
Financial and emotional fear,
an unstoppable, constant flow of tears
and as Christmas moves from present to rear
You thank god this only happens once a year.
Spring is flowers and birds and bees,
Summer is beaches and sand,
Autumn is pumpkins and colored leaves,
Winter is a wonderland:
Winter is when the world sparkles in the cool light of the sun,
Silver are the streets in new-fallen snow,
Sleigh rides and snowball fights make for lots of fun,
Beautiful are the white nights under the moon's soft glow.
Winter is chestnuts roasting over wood-burning fires,
Mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows on top,
Carols sung by street-corner choirs,
Holiday displays glowing in the windows of each gift shop.
Winter is fir trees and holly,
Decorations in red and green,
A time of merriment jolly,
Peaceful and serene.
Spring is nice and Summer is fine,
And Autumn is really grand,
Yet no other season is quite so divine,
Winter is a wonderland.