Friday, December 08, 2006

Yuletide greetings to all! Herewith I post a poem, composed several years ago during an all-day traffic school thanks to my running an orange light at midnight in Santee, California. As you will hear when you read it aloud (the only way poetry ought to be read) to your young daughter, son, niece, or nephew, it is offered in fond memory and gratitude to Theodor Seuss Geisel. (Who knows—this ditty may scratch that itch you have to see The Nativity Story.)

A Seussian Christmas

If you saddled your six-legged droozle and rode
Toward the north, at a gallop, until you hit snow,
(And we all know a six-legged droozle can scoot
At one hundred and twenty when you give it the boot)
Anyway, on your droozle, you’d finally arrive
At a hamlet called Nazareth—this town has survived
Since the time that the Romans ruled everyone’s lives.
In those days Joe was bummed, marriage prospects seemed dim,
’Cause his Mary was PG, though—he knew—not by him.
But a dream and an angel cured him of his fears
So that even in distant Faloop, in Algiers,
Glad tidings were heard there—the best news in years.

From Yreka, Poughkeepsie, and Kalamazoo,
To Nome, East McKeesport, and far Katmandu—
Bring in Noel and yuletide and cheer
And see how the Light of the world draws near!
So let’s greet the Christ child—no humbug, no bah,
But lift up your glasses with an al-le-lu-ia!

So things were patched up between Mary and Joe
(Though the way neighbors talked still made them feel low)
But it just didn’t matter to either of them,
’Cause the tax man had called them to Beth-eh-le-hem.
Joe hoisted up Mary on his donkey named Snout
(Who took a whole fortnight to travel the route
That a droozle could make in an hour or two)
Which explains Joe and Mary’s slight rooming snafu.
Yet even in distant Shabingo-Laneer,
Glad tidings were heard there—the best news in years!

From Croatia, Toledo, and Albuquerque,
To Nice and Southampton and old Ken-tuck-y—
Bring in Noel and yuletide and cheer
And see how the Light of the world draws near!
So let’s greet the Christ child—no humbug, no bah,
But lift up your glasses with an al-le-lu-ia!

Meanwhile, in an overplushed palace of marble,
All quarried by slaves in Fandango-Goobarble
(Who chip on the white stone with hammers ball peen
While their bosses talk only in PowerPoint screens)
In that grand marble palace sat Herod the Great,
Sipping decaf espresso la mocha latté.
He hoodwinked the Magi to spy unawares,
Who returned to the trail toward the babe in Pampers.
So even in downtown Chicago, at Sears,
Glad tidings were heard there—the best news in years!

The rest of the story you’ve known for a while,
How the tyke in his Pampers soon left for the Nile.
He then came back home, with his folks and a tan,
And grew up to redeem every woman and man.
So that even in Thessalonica’s frontier,
Glad tidings were heard there—the best news in years!

From Osaka and Cancun and Kuala Lampur,
To Greenland, Samoa—anywhere that you’d tour—
Bring in Noel and yuletide and cheer
And see how the Light of the world draws near!
So let’s greet the Christ child—no humbug, no bah,
But lift up your glasses with an al-le-lu-ia!

Copyright 1999 by Tim McLaughlin

2 Comments:

At 6:51 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

What a wonderful poem. Now that I know traffic school is so inspiring, I'm going to throw caution to the wind and drive like a poet!

 
At 3:47 PM, Blogger dutchlvr said...

I love it! I'm just now revisiting your blog...nice work:)

 

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