“It’s made out of snow, but has a nose and a bow, or a scarf, guess depending on the person having made the snowman up. Freezing cold outside, alas, never too cold for the bold snowman, standing there, in the yard.” Gun Roswell
Frosty the Snowman
Delivering the ultimate plan
For the holiday fan
From here to Milan
Doing the holiday can-can
Just because, he can
“Those mythical figures adorning our homes and perhaps lives, saviours and even spies? Alas, looking rather nice, at least, when staying on them shelves or wherever else they just might dwell.” Gun Roswell
Angels and elves,
Where do they dwell?
Filling the shelves perhaps
Putting on spells on us
Ringing the holiday bells maybe
Letting us know not to be lated
Of the seasonal celebrations
And so,
All is now well again
“Oh Xmas time, oh Xmas time… yeah, so, tis the season after all, so let’s try to have some kind of a ball? Even if some of us might not just subscribe to the general idea of the celebratory time. But yeah, totes put up a tree and some lights, as they do look, kinda nice!” Gun Roswell
The jolly Saint Nick
For some, Father Christmas
To others, Santa Claus
Call him what you will
You will always get your fill
Of happy thoughts and enjoyment
And possibly a nice payment
On Christmas Eve or Day wherever in the world you play
If you only believe
“It was the day before the real xmas, or at least, in some countries it is so, at least” Gun Roswell
Up here, in the North, we celebrate this seasonal holiday, this Xmas time without much of a ball
Even if the trees might have some, but we, us northern dwellers, prefer not to have too much fun
As peace and quiet, are the key words, so not to cause any kinds of riots
When Santa Claus or Father Xmas or Kris Kringle or whichever way you prefer this character of sorts to call
As this one single dude, who will bring us, well not food, but at least some not really needed stuff
And hey, that all should be quite enough, for this time of the year
When we all are mostly gathered together, in a sort of a celebration, without too much fear?
“Sometimes, the classics are the best of tales, even in reposts. Happy holidays to One and All!” Gun Roswell
The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.
Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.
After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.
But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.
After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.
My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”
I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.
When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.
Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!
“Santa has it real easy. I plan and buy all the toys. He gets all the credit just for them deploying!” Mrs Claus
Mrs Claus to the rescue!
Mrs Claus
Without any kind of applause
Doing her bid
Without earning a single quid
Because all of this so called Yuletide
Without the bride
Of this, so called Santa
Would be just banter
No kind of jolly
Or celebration type folly
For neither me
Nor you
Without the one we never calling choose
Mrs Claus
“The holiday season for some, those celebration begins, on this very Eve…” Gun Roswell
The Eve of all Eves (Xmas style)
‘Twas the night before Christmas
Nothing stirred,
No sound was heard
No human, nor animal, in sight
Even the mice had taken flight
The only ones about their business
Were the little green men from Mars
They had to be really careful
Their nature a little bit fearful
For the holidays not to turn into a farce
It was their turn to spread wholly
Presents and a great amounts of jolly
In a mighty hurry
No time for blurry
Their sleigh filled
Up to the hilt
As it took off
With a big bang
And a huge puff
As they all sang
The yuletide carols
As they rolled off
Children and grown-ups
Getting lots of stuff
As the little green men
Working collectively
Their derrières off in zen
As the Xmas spirit
Now duly delivered
All around the world
At least,
That is what we heard
“A very short time for a celebration and holidays, but hey, I’ll take it!” Gun Roswell
Holiday Seasons Greetings
When the two days of pleasure, puts on a lot of pressure
Because hey, it’s just a few days, and packing in all to slay
The checklist done earlier this year, just in utter fear
Of loosing out on some of the important things to be done
During over three hundred days, packed with all and maybe fun
But then, the fatigue hits and all you can do it just sit
And watch as the candles softly flicker, forgetting all the bigger
Worries and what nots and simply, sipping some eggnog
Because that, is what this season, is really all about!
Xmas Eve Eve
Twas the night before xmas eve
All was, well almost silent
Nothing stirred, not even a mouse
Who possibly already got out of the house
That louse!
And i had even bought a present for it
Oh shit!
Well, maybe the neighbours hamster
Would be grateful for a little wooly sweater
Dispute that hateful letter
I had written to them
Because of all that loud singing
Each night i kept hearing
Sitting by the window
Watching everyone else go
Knowing full well nowhere was better
But who could argue with a grammy
Shouting bloody murder if you don’t get here
By xmas eve the latest
Or there would no doubt be hell to pay
At least, thats what i heard the lady next door say
So now, all is finally peaceful
And i am ready for the boring and dull
Xmas cheers my ass
I would prefer a good comedy and laugh!
So why this mood all made in fowl?
I dunno, better ask the owl!
So why not go outside and howl
You got your xmas wish
There are no dirty dish
This year just me myself and I
So laugh it out and keep on with a smile!
Happy holidays to one and all!
“It is that time of the season once again, the season of joy, celebration and yeah, gifts too, at least, of you have been mostly nice, because out there, those elves do spy!” Gun Roswell
Seasons Greetings
The seasonal decorations are finally all brought out, boxes and boxes worth of all kinds of stuff
Colourful gadgets, sparkly trinkets and most of all, all kinds of coloured lights
The house soon enough filled, the decor totally changed, from calming pastels to the blown out colour splash of well, mostly greens and reds
But hey, it’s all okay, even if the home looks like Santa’s workshop from a campy movie from the sixties
It’s the time of joy after all, the time to act all coy, the bright and tacky colours all part of the ploy
Because once a year, you can act like that little exited kid, playing with all them cool X-masy toys
The music boxes of vary taken out too, might seem rather scary to the family dog, but especially the carolling going on, even if the words of the song might be long since forgotten
But hey, tune it down every once in a while, so the poor thing can take a break from your off key singing
And then, during the specially marked evening, will finally arrive, and with real or fake smiles, the family gathering around the table of plenty
Maybe not so heavens sent, but you don’t really have to be all religious
To enjoy the festivities, of this seasonal party, especially when all the setup having taken some doing.
Rantings Of A Third Kind 