No Wonder He’s Fat

What kind of cookies,
Did you leave Santa this year?
And was there milk,
So they could be,
Washed down properly?

**********

Were you the one,
Who cut out all those angels?
And iced the sugar dough,
With the pearly white?
Then sprinkled on,
The iridescent sprinkles?
Just wondering,
Because he sure devoured those.

Were you the one,
Who mixed up a world-class batter?
And added in,
Every flavor of Christmas chip,
Ever known to man?
Then rolled them in powdered sugar,
To look as though,
They were covered in snow?
Just wondering,
Because he sure raved on those.

Were you the one,
Who made men of gingerbread?
Then baked them to,
A golden brown,
And took time to dress each one,
With piped icing and candies?
Just wondering,
Because he sure fancied those.

Were you the one,
Who made them so light and fluffy?
Then colored them minty green,
And even made them taste,
Like peppermint sweets,
Before mixing in,
Some chocolate treats?
Then dusted them all,
In powdered sugar,
Giving them,
That happy holidays look?
Just wondering,
Because he sure took to those.

Were you the one,
Who twisted red and white ropes?
Then carefully shaped each one,
Into a candy cane?
Before shaking on the red sugar,
That made them extra festive?
And to finish them off,
Made red and white frosting for dipping?
Just wondering,
Because he sure went crazy over those.

Were you the one,
Who made such beautiful butter cookies?
Perfectly round,
Looking like cheery tree ornaments?
With the extra-large indentations,
Baked in every center?
That housed all different flavors,
Of jam mounds?
Just wondering,
Because he sure ate major amounts of those.

**********

He lives for this night,
And any you make,
Will help energize his flight,
All will be eaten,
Without a fight,
But some give him more,
Of a delight.

Christmas Delights

One reindeer,
That we all know,
Has a magic nose,
Not this one though,
This one here’s,
Got magic toes.

Toes polished green,
With sparkles like,
You’ve never seen,
And a mouth that’s both,
Sweet and obscene.

Sweet and obscene,
Is an odd, odd mix,
That makes him not a favorite,
Of Santa Claus,
But Mrs. Claus,
On the other hand,
Thinks he’s the fairest,
In all their land.

That far north land,
We call North Pole,
Where the main phrase,
Is ho-ho-ho,
Doesn’t have much room,
For a naughty deer,
But Santa’s wife,
Doesn’t mind a wee bit of strife,
She says he’s a dear,
And her perfect pet,
Throughout the year.

Each and every day,
He comes to her kitchen,
When he smells the cookies cooking,
And she gives him some,
Then they eat them together,
While she sips her rum.

Her peppermint rum,
And chocolate milk,
Is a favorite there,
For it’s smooth as silk.

Silky though,
It may be,
Her pet doesn’t much like it,
So she humors him,
And let’s him have a drink,
From the kitchen sink.

Drinks from sinks,
Aren’t the only way,
She spoils him rotten,
In front of her fire,
He has a big bed,
Lots of fluffy blankets,
On top of soft rugs,
Made of braided cotton.

A thick cotton comforter,
Covers him up,
When he hits the hay,
And he snores away,
For quite a bit of the day.

When day breaks,
He’s awake,
At the crack of dawn,
Delivering the cookies,
With candy canes,
And that minty-spiked milk,
Up and down every lane.

Such stunning lanes,
They have in that land,
From the packed and popular,
Modern lane called Main,
To the ones on the outskirts,
Where the roads are dirt.

The dirt outskirts,
Are lit up like tiny towns,
Decorations and lights innumerable,
Each enormous property,
Seems to set new heights,
And the lanes downtown,
Dazzle the eyes,
Because they are so bright.

Bright and pretty,
It’s Christmas all year here,
At times for Mrs. Claus,
The rest of the world,
Is pretty much forgotten,
For she paints each day,
Painting landscapes and portraits,
Is her hobby,
But you don’t know that,
It’s supposed to be secret.

Secrets here are many,
And we aren’t supposed to know any,
It would take away from its appeal,
If it became too real,
And then Christmas wouldn’t have,
Its special feel.

That feeling of quaintness,
Requires special maintenance,
Even Twinkle-Toes knows,
So he likes to help,
By putting on shows.

Shows that feature all the reindeer,
And trees and stockings,
As well as all the other Christmas things,
That get taken for granted,
But here in North Pole,
Are kind of enchanted.

And enchanted they must stay,
Which isn’t easily understood,
But if you ever get by that way,
On a Christmas Eve,
When Santa is away,
His missus,
Will show you ’round their ‘hood,
Her and the one,
With magic green toes,
Will dance their way down the roads,
Leading the way,
Pointing out all that’s charming,
But be aware,
As some shit’s alarming.

The Unicorn

For as long as anyone could remember,
It’s said a unicorn,
Has lived on the mountain yonder.

When was he born?
And would he ever die?
Was he maybe a myth?
No that can’t be,
Because some say he’s been seen,
And not just in visions and dreams.

He’s said to be really pretty,
With chocolate hair,
And flaxen points,
With the added flair,
Of a glittery silver horn,
Poking out from the forelock,
That is rare.

Some say they’ve seen him,
In the settlement,
At the bottom of the mountain,
Parading through the streets,
On his four fancy feet.

Legs lifted high,
As he trots,
Hoofs that match his horn,
Pound the pavement,
Each and every morn.

Or so they say,
But it’s happened that multiple people,
Have been in the same place,
At the same time,
And while some swear he whipped by,
Others saw nothing,
And say with an eye roll,
And a sigh,
“They must have been high”.

Many were sitting outside,
At the cafe,
On a morning kind of gray,
When one of the aged,
Said to her grandchild,
“Look at that horse!
It’s that one from the mountain,
Said to be wild”!

But……….
“What horse”?
Asked the small girl,
Standing in her chair,
Hoping for a glimpse,
Of that horse of course.

“That one”!
Exclaimed a young man,
One table over,
“See, he’s just stopped!
Check him out,
Before he runs”!

Now the whole patio,
Was in a turmoil,
Three more could see,
But no others,
And there must have been at least thirty.

The little girl,
Still could not see,
And told grandma stubbornly,
“Your advanced age,
Must be making you crazy”.

“For I,
Not yet quite nine,
Have sight far better than yours,
Which I’m sure is fine,
But definitely no better than mine,
So come now,
Sit down and dine”.

But grandma ignored the child,
For all the five,
Who could see,
Were torn between,
Laughing with glee,
And wanting to turn and flee.

Because the unicorn,
Was a sight to see,
Flaring his nostrils,
And pawing the ground,
After rearing up,
Then coming down,
But his eyes seemed more docile,
Than hostile,
It seemed he was having fun,
Watching the goings on,
Then just like that,
He turned and again,
Began to run.

“Oh look at the tail”!
Shrieked a little boy,
One of the seers,
“It looks six feet long”!
“Yes! It’s marvelous indeed”!
Grandma agreed.

The twenty-plus,
Who saw nothing,
Didn’t know what to think,
So soon all,
Ceased to speak.

Poor them,
Blind to the unseen realm,
Yes they were,
The majority,
But wrong they were,
And thankfully,
Didn’t cause a stir.

Now back up on the mountain,
The unicorn headed,
So he could get rested,
It was always so tiring,
After a morning run,
But it was also fun,
The reactions of the peoples,
While running through their streets,
Past shops,
And places to eat,
Placed among schools with bells,
And churches with steeples.

The unicorn,
Whose name,
By the way,
Was Horn,
Didn’t realize,
That most of the peoples,
To him were blind.

He got a kick,
Out of the excitement he caused,
Not understanding,
That a debate,
Had been ongoing,
Between those who had insistence,
Of his existence,
And those who had persistence,
That he was a fable,
Made to entertain,
At bedtimes and dinner tables.

He just knew,
That everyone became unbridled,
When he strolled through the city,
Yes it caused a commotion,
That made him laugh,
As he played it in his head,
All day in slow motion.

The tale of Horn,
Will continue to be told,
Throughout circles,
Both young and old,
Most believing it fiction,
But an esteemed few,
Know that it’s true.

Old Fashioned Winter Wonderland

The iridescent sparkles,
Shining off an icicle,
Light the path,
Of snow white,
And it makes a feeling,
Like all is right.

The path is deepening,
As the sleigh glides over it,
Here and there a street light,
Illuminates the falling snow,
As the horses go,
Down every road.

Bells ringing,
And properties lit up,
Like Santa’s North Pole,
There’s a soft wind now too,
As a left turn takes us,
Over a large knoll,
Where at the top,
We stop to admire,
The heart of town.

We can see,
For miles around,
All throughout,
Our marvelous little town,
Enough snow now coming down,
That maybe it will soon drown.

Everywhere is decorated,
For the coming of Christmas,
Light poles wrapped with garland,
To remind us of the tidings,
Of that old day long awaited.

Delightful lights,
Hang in every window,
For they’re all in competition,
Of who can be most glamorous,
From where we are up here,
It looks as though the beautician,
And the store promoting nutrition,
Are the ones worth voting on this year.

Be that as it may,
Every single building together,
Forms quite the picture,
The white light display to the north,
Has intertwined so many,
Sparkling red stockings,
And the reindeer springing forth,
From the center of the skating rink,
That’s surrounded by big sleigh bells,
Has the whole town talking.

As we descend,
From the hill,
We round a bend,
Headed to the town’s center,
To a celebration going on,
Looking forward to steaming cups with cocoa,
Each topped with lots of marshmallow.

There will be cookies covered with icing,
In the shape of Santa Claus,
And giant snowmen built by families,
Vying for a present and applause.

An organist is there,
Leading some in singing carols,
And while they’re doing that,
Others lie down to make angels.

Such an unforgettable gathering,
At the prettiest time of year,
And as the clock strikes midnight,
All gather ’round,
The town’s tallest tree,
It’s been bedecked with bows,
And little lights that twinkle,
Garland, balls, and bells,
Complete the evergreen,
And we all go home with gifts,
Fit for kings and queens.

Uh-Oh, The Secret Cookies Are Now For Sale

Behind the grassy clearing,

Where the unsuspecting tend to fall prey,

To the Big Black Bear,

Demonic Dominic,

There lies a wondrous place,

Known as Sugar Cookie Cavern,

It’s an old-fashioned sort of place,

And smiles cover every face,

At least they did,

Until today.

Under normal circumstances,

No one will stumble upon this quaint little town,

For to cross the clearing,

You would have to pass Demonic Dominic,

Who will surely scare you off or take you down.

Somehow though,

Some unexplainable way,

Her Highness Naughty Ness,

Has found the way.

It’s in a big, big cave,

When entering you will see a twisted path,

Which leads into this town,

That is hidden away,

And it was always a fucking fortress,

Until she came to govern it,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Such a charming, charming place,

At one time full of grace,

Until along came Naughty Ness,

And wiped the smile from each face.

Picture this,

Everything sparkles and dazzles,

With every color ever,

Radiated from a prism,

The grass grows neon,

And frosted cookies instead of flowers,

Sprout over every lawn.

People were content,

No work and all play,

That was basically their way,

Until that fateful day,

When along came She,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Their ancient barter system is no more,

She shook this town,

To the core,

When she changed their ways,

And painted it with frowns.

Ever since this place was new,

Things were there to take,

Whether they were made or grew,

It was free,

If from a plant or a tree,

And they liked to trade,

Things that they made.

The sky was always clear,

Sunshine permeated the place,

Until the day there was no trace,

Of the warmth and happiness,

This happened the day that She blew in,

Her Highness Naughty Ness.

Being sneaky,

She keeps hidden away,

In a castle she’s built,

High on a hill,

She hates being seen,

But boy is she,

Fucking mean,

She’s got a deep love for the green,

And will come by it,

Through any means.

Whoa now!

Don’t dare eat that cookie!

Though it was grown,

On land that you own,

It’s got purple icing,

And is needed on a tray,

For Her to ship off,

Right away.

She sells off their things,

For fancy gowns and rings,

From their exports,

She’s got herself a fine monetary source,

But for the lifelong residents,

Of Sugar Cookie Cavern,

This is becoming detrimental,

And they must put a stop,

To Her evil pattern.

She makes them pay,

For imported goods,

Their peaceful way of life,

She has cut it like a knife.

There are loaves of bread,

That hang from branches of each tree,

But they are no longer free,

You will pay Her,

One dozen frosted cookies for a loaf,

Or for you,

There will be no toast.

This self-proclaimed queen,

She insists the more worldly ways are for their own good,

She tries to make them ‘civilized’,

Remember,

She’s all about the green,

So she doesn’t see,

This is no prize.

For since the start of this place,

Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Has been a place of paradise,

Not mingling with general society,

Makes them happy as a gambler,

Who rolled sevens on a pair of loaded dice.

Through Her trades with the Outsiders,

The secret of their home,

Is about to be leaked,

She must be stopped,

Before it is squeaked.

They all had a meeting,

To save this blissful place,

And one man decided,

“What more could I lose”?

Then he put on his walking shoes,

And headed for the mouth of their Cave,

All agreed,

That he is fucking brave.

Old Adam went searching,

For Demonic Dominic,

He sat on a boulder,

Waiting and waiting,

His mission was impossible,

To converse with That Bad Bear,

Befriend him so he will agree,

To take out Naughty Ness,

Even if he must,

Drag her out by her hair.

Once he realized,

Old Adam was in his field,

He came out and slunk up,

Behind that huge rock on which he sat,

Ready to smash him like a glass cup,

He assumed his life he would take,

Yes in his mind,

Old Adam was already fucking gone.

About to take that final step,

The one to make him close enough,

In which Old Adam’s life he could snuff,

He sure got a shock,

When the man turned around,

And stared him down,

From atop that big ol’ rock.

It stopped Him in His tracks,

Never before had the Demon Bear,

Seen anyone dare,

To look him in the eye,

As he tried to catch them unaware,

And sentence them to die.

“You there!

You evil asshole of a bear!

Just beyond your field,

Inside that old cave,

Is my peaceful community,

We are asking for your help,

Ridding us of Naughty Ness,

I’m begging you to save our fortress,

Please help us take her out,

She has ruined our town,

And forced us to bow down,

To her haughty crown”.

It happened for Old Adam,

Though it most likely never will for anyone again,

That day he made a friend,

Of Demonic Dominic.

Together they walked to the cave,

And crossed the threshold,

Into Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Where they saw all the town’s peoples,

Awaiting their return.

There was some skepticism,

In colluding with the Demon Bear,

Trust issues you know,

As he is ordinarily everyone’s foe,

But it was recognized,

That indeed this was the only way,

For Naughty Ness to forever go away.

Late one night,

Soon after his arrival,

All the plans were finally in place,

First the Bear made her feel compelled,

Then made his way back to his hovel,

Where he waited on her,

She would be in a trance,

Unable to put up a fight.

The very next day,

She felt a strong need to walk away,

She walked out much calmer than she blew in,

And then Demonic Dominic,

Made her his next sin.

A celebration ensued,

When it became obvious,

That Her Highness Naughty Ness,

Was never by them to be seen again,

Then Sugar Cookie Cavern,

Was once more a captivating place,

Charming and full of grace.

Once more everyone and everything is free,

They are hidden away,

And that is endlessly,

How they shall stay.