Stash Report

I Dreamed A Dream

Twas the year of the winter that never got cold.
It was a time when no one ever got old.
There was no sickness, then, in this land
And things went always as they’d been planned.

It was a universe filled with sweet harmony…
The fruit grew heavily on every tall tree.
Children played freely, without much worry
And no one bustled… there was no hurry.

Politicians, then, lived only to serve
And to offer folks the life they deserved.
The only requirement was that they care…
No silver spoon… no millionaire.

Oh Woe!

Sadly, this world exists only in fantasy…
One that, in dream, came sweetly to me.
Now, watching nightly, the evening news,
I can’t avoid a case of the primary blues.

Hungry to become our nation’s next President…
Wanting to be the White House’s next resident,
Candidates resemble Machiavelli’s court…
Trying to stand tall… they all come up short.

Like passengers watching the Titanic sink…
We’re all aware that our candidates stink.
To get elected, they’d sell granny and you…
That’s what passes for politics…. what can you do?

The End

Geography

Kazakhstan…
Turkmenistan…
Pakistan…
Afghanistan…

These are places I don’t understan…….d.

End

The Best Gift

Oh happy day.
Children out at play.
Enjoying the winter weather.

What a joy.
Girl and boy…
Holding hands together.

Both are caring.
Both are sharing,
Wearing each other’s sweater.

A simpler time.
Two of a kind.
Things couldn’t get any better.

No demands implied.
They laughed and they cried
And they’ll be friends forever.

End

Here’s Hoping

Here’s hoping your savings weren’t all in the market.
Here’s hoping you have a car and a place to park it.
Here’s hoping everyone’s been happy and healthy.
Here’s hoping fortune smiles and you all get wealthy.
Here’s hoping the new year will bring war’s end.
Here’s hoping politicians learn better ways to spend.
Here’s hoping the oceans will be cleansed of pollution.
Here’s hoping they find global warming’s solution.
Here’s hoping everyone can find a good a job.
Here’s hoping your pigeons all turn into squab.
Here’s hoping gas prices finally go down.
Here’s hoping your face never wears a frown.

Here’s hoping, if there’s a miracle, that you’re a witness.
Here’s hoping you have… a very merry Christmas.

Alexis and Stash

Some Thoughts On Christmas Eve

Did you ever notice that…

You never think about a lamp,
Until the day starts to wane.

That…

You never consider your roof,
Until the clouds begins to rain.

That…

You never hunt for a dictionary,
Until you want to write some prose.

That…

You never look for a tissue,
Until you gotta blow your nose.

We live in a world unobserved…
Things that we simply overlook.
It’s a world that goes unnoticed…
Like a dusty unopened book…

There are melodies unheard…
Seeds that have gone unplanted…
Calls we haven’t made…
Friends we’ve taken long for granted.

But there is no need to worry…
No cause for feeling sorrow…
If we have missed out on today,
There’s still time to share tomorrow.

Merry Christmas

End

Rudolph’s Epitaph

Oh no… oh dear, can it be true?
Did you hear what someone said?
Santa worked poor Rudolph
Until our friend dropped dead!

It wasn’t just the reindeer,
Who laughed at Rudolph’s nose.
Santa was in that group…
Yes, he was one of those.

He thought Rudy laughable.
A red nose seemed so funny.
But the joke only lasted,
When days were clear and sunny.

But as the fog rolled in that night,
Santa became a “Rudolph user”.
“Get me Old Flicker.” he called…
“We’ve a job for the red-nosed loser.

So, Santa tied poor Rudy to his sleigh
And with a whip, he cracked deer-tush.
Rudy strained and strained and strained…
The sled finally took off with a swoosh.

Santa worked Rudolph all night long.
Without a break, he visited each house.
“Can we pause a moment?” asked Rudy.
“Keep pulling!” shouted Santa Louse.

When they returned, Rudy looked ill.
Without food, he went to his stall.
Rudolph fell quickly asleep…
But couldn’t answer morning’s call.

The Pole-ish vet was summoned
But for Rudolph, it was too late.
His overworked heart had burst…
His last trip was through heaven’s gate.

They came to take Santa away this morning.
“I’m so very sorry!”, said St. Nick with a tear.
“Kiddies… enjoy the toys in your stockings…
I won’t be visiting your houses next year.”

End

Yesterday a good friend of mine, let’s call her M.S., was over our house. Out of the blue, she says, “What terrible thing ever happened to you as a child? All of your poems about Christmas are so dark and macabre. They’re so sad and disturbing”

In order to make her feel better, by showing that there still remains a bright ember of goodness and faith in humanity, I’m composing the following, in real time. It comes right from the heart.

Holiday Happiness

Every night I go to sleep well fed…
Woke up this morning, guess I’m not dead.

End

Now… getting back to business…

Santa’s Moving

Santa’s moving from the cold North Pole
And heading down south to sunny Mexico.
It seems that Mrs. Claus has achy knees
And yearns for a warm and tropical breeze.

It’s not just going where the sun is warm
Or getting away from the cold snow storms…
Rudolph’s bright nose doesn’t shine so red
And inflation’s caused a great overhead.

The elves have joined the Leprechaun Union…
And Santa’s heard that they’re gonna sue him.
It’s a time saving, cost cutting, clever solution
To move to where people don’t mind pollution.

Children workers are as good as elves…
Small and helpless, they can’t defend themselves.
They’ll work long hours, weekends and holidays too
And then get paid pennies, when they are through.

If Miguel gets injured and Jose gets sick,
Santa will make sure to sack them, quick…
‘Cause there’s no insurance at the Santa Works,
Where employees are offered no medical perks.

Santa will get rid of his worries and tensions…
‘Cause Mexicans don’t ask for retirement pensions.
(Those worried about their financial order,
Have already slipped through our porous border.)

Santa’s plan is to “go poof”… just vanish.
That’s why the Clauses are both learning Spanish.
G’bye antlers and swishy tails…
Oh yeah…
Don’t miss next month’s venison sale.

Bye-bye… bon appetite!

End

The Seasons Change

This year you’ll have to be patient
Cause Santa is going to be late.
He’s a little off his schedule
So you will just have to wait.

The North Pole, it seems, is changing.
Santa and his folks are trying to adjust.
His sleigh’s been put into mothballs
And its runners have begun to rust.

All of Santa’s friends have noticed
The change that’s coming about…
They live way up north but
Now it feels like it does down south.

There’s sweat on the brow of Bill,
Santa’s pampered pet polar bear…
Who’s removed his thick fur coat
And now sleeps in his bear underwear.

Pete, the perky little penguin
Has petitioned the Arctic Commissioner.
He’d like to cope with the heat,
By getting a cool air conditioner.

It’s all an inconvenient truth.
It’s a hassle… a great big chore.
It didn’t used to be like this
And it’s all because of Al Gore.

It’s with him that Armageddon started.
Before Al, all was just peachy keen…
But he’s really gone and stirred up
This environmental “weather-thing”.

Most of our worries never happen.
They torture us and then go away.
Global warming’s not really so bad…
Hey… the winters will feel like May!

As for our children’s, children’s, children…
About whom the alarmists all shout…
I say don’t underestimate the kiddies…
Let’s leave it to them to figure out.

END

Willie Won’t Be Having Christmas This Year

Willie won’t be having Christmas this year,
It’s a sad, sad story but it’s true, I fear.
Soon Willie will learn how very bad
It was to make Santa Claus mad.

Willie was always an awful child
But as he grew, he became more wild.
In case there’s something you have missed,
Here are highlights from a very long list:

Willie lit our fluffy little kitten on fire
And punctured three of dad’s new tires.
He smashed all of mom’s brand new dishes
And flushed away Danielle’s goldfishes.

Willie sprinkled all of our clothes with bleach
And put the toilet paper outta Grandma’s reach.
He took apart our television clicker
And watered down Grandpa’s good corn liquor.

Willie liked to pinch the soft, pink babies
And he tried to give ole Spot the rabies.
He glued together Dad’s brand new sneakers
And then blew out our stereo speakers.

Willie made Melissa eat a crawly bug
And spilled black ink on our white wool rug.
He broke the new refrigerator’s door
And made a “dookie” on our kitchen floor.

Willie used paint to write bad curses
And liked to steal from ladies’ purses.
He dialed 911 to make fake phone calls
And ran naked through his school’s halls.

No, Willie won’t be doing “the Christmas thing”.
He’s someone Santa won’t be visiting.
Instead, Santa’s come up with a special plan…
A one-way ticket to Pakistan.

Santa’s gonna give Willie a surprise plane ride
To the land where all of the terrorists hide.
Then he can crawl into a hole
And have his own party…
Courtesy of Santa and the North Pole.

End

The last several of my offerings have been, let’s say, on the dark, backside of the Christmas holiday. The following is a brighter fable that deals with the goodness and friendship that this holiday engenders. This selection is pretty long but it reads fairly well. A turtle is (of course) the hero. Some of my close friends may see themselves parodied within this poem… see if you can pick yourselves out. Stash

The Art Of The Gift: An Epic Poem

Tommy Turtle peeked out from his cozy shell.
The morning sun shined brightly in his sleepy eyes.
Surveying the neighborhood he knew so well,
Tom sensed that today would be one of surprise.

He always felt he’d been blessed with friends
But sometimes he just didn’t show it.
Today Tommy would make his amends…
He loved his pals and they would know it.

First, Tom jogged to the home of Sammy Snake…
The small hole in the ground near the brook.
Intending to give his good pal a fair shake,
Sneakers, colorfully wrapped, was what he took.

Sammy was charmed, as always, by Tom’s visit…
Even more so at the thought of a present.
With excitement, Sam asked, “What is it?”
“A surprise!” Tom replied, his voice pleasant.

Tearing the wrappings in an excited, snakey way,
Sammy looked down, his tongue suddenly stilled.
There was little he could think of to say…
With tears, his tiny eyes suddenly filled.

“Sneakers… how generous!” said Sam, so gay.
(Though footless, there was no thought to ask why.)
They hugged but there was no time to stay…
Sam blew a quick kiss to Turtle, so shy.

Tommy headed for the home of Roberta Raccoon.
She had always been gentle and kind to him.
He arrived at her hollow at quarter to noon
And there she stood, bushy tailed and trim.

“How you doin’ my honey?” was Roberta’s greeting.
They had always been the very best of good friends.
“Roberta, have you noticed that life is fleeting…”
“Before you begin it, you’re at your run’s end…”

“Well, I’ve arrived to say that I care about you.”
“Before it’s too late, I want to offer a token…”
“It’s warm and toasty and almost brand new…”
“It’s a fur coat… no, really, I’m not jokin’.”

Now Roberta surely didn’t need a fur coat.
She had been born with one, as you well know…
But Tom’s gesture played a sweet note…
His affection caused her heart to glow.

Tommy now raced to the lair of Bernice Bear.
They had been friends for forever and a day.
Together, they shared a friendship, rare…
In spring’s warmth they would always play.

For her, he had purchased a new pair of skis…
To traverse forest hills, long and steep.
Sadly, poor judgment came in threes,
As winter was when Bernice would sleep.

Bernice graciously accepted Tom’s gift…
Giving him a hug he’d never forget.
Tommy felt his low spirits lift,
Soothing his conscience, once upset.

Tommy returned to the welcome wet of his pond.
His heart was full of sweet satisfaction.
He’d managed to strengthen friendship’s bonds,
Once weakened through his distraction.

Now, this isn’t a tale of how friends can be bought.
As can be seen, each gift was incidental.
It wasn’t the present but the sweet thought,
That made Tom’s efforts so sentimental.

The gang would always have been Tom’s friends…
You see, his real gift was one of the heart.
The journey of true love never ends…
Though it’s sometimes difficult to chart.

Tommy eased into the still waters of his pool.
As the moon danced across its smooth surface.
Little Turtle savored the comfort and the cool…
It was a satisfying end to his day of purpose.

End

I Was In My Backyard Diggin’ A Hole

I was in my backyard diggin’ a hole,
When I found myself at the North Pole.

At first I thought this must be China…
But then I saw Santa and his wife Dinah.

They weren’t smilin’ like on their card…
Both were upset, me bein’ in their yard.

Santa wore blue jeans, was drinkin’ a beer
And was cussin’ real loud ‘bout scarin’ his deer.

Mrs. wore a nightie and was shaking her fist.
From the red in her face, I could tell she was pissed.

It seems, they were just about to “get it on”,
When I appeared on their frosty front lawn.

I asked Mrs. C. why all the anger and tears…
She hissed, “Santa comes only once a year!”

I realized now, why I was about to fist-fight…
While the date wasn’t Christmas…
This was their big night!

Fa-la-la!

End