‘Twas the morning before Monday, when all of the outdoors
Were weeping, not sleeping, as people rode their snowboards
Down the mountainside time and time again
Mother Nature complained about a serious migraine
Pleading for the sun to fade behind a thick, dark cloud
And the humans to quit being so loud
Enough was enough, she ended the noise quite quick
When the weather turned icy cold, and instantly made them all sick
– Anneberly Andrews –
Thought I would give Chelsea Owens’ The Fifth Week Terrible Poetry Contest a try (rules below). I certainly had a blast writing this “terrible” poem.
- The topic is ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. This is my LEAST FAVORITE poem in the entire world -whenever it’s parodied. Therefore; I normally feel that every idiot who goes about with “‘Twas the night before Christmas” on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart; but this week you’re getting a pass.
Strangely enough, I love the original. I have at least three favorite stanzas in there.
- What’s the limit? For the love of my own sanity and yours, please keep it to eight or nine stanzas, maximum. That’s about the point of the original where we read I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
- It’s gotta rhyme. At the end of the line. Make it fine.
- Remember, remember: the poem needs to be terrible. Clement C. Moore (or, Henry Livingston, Jr.) will want to visit you each hour the night of Christmas Eve to warn you of an angry mob of poets waiting for your death, should you ever write that way again.
- Keep it PG-Rated. Kids might climb up on your knee and ask you to read it to them.
Think you can do it? You have till 8:00 a.m. MST next Friday (December 14, 2018) to submit.