With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore...actually with apologies to anyone who has ever written any poetry, I give you:
A Visit From Booker Claus
Twas a few days after Thanksgiving, and in my neighborhood
Not a scrap was uneaten; at least nothing good.
The new Christmas tree sat over there, in the corner
The sparkling white lights waiting to adorn her.
MK in her hoodie, and I feeling fat
Sat down to watch Simpsons. Or something like that.
Into the room pranced the world's strangest sight
I laughed and guffawed. I roared with delight.
There in front of the tree, sitting straight up
Was a big-eared black dog, barely a pup.
On his head sat a hat, round his neck was a cape
My jaw then did slacken. My mouth was agape.
"Quick take a picture" I exclaimed with great relish.
"I'll use it on my blog. It's lately been dullish."
I couldn't believe the sight that I'd seen.
A visit from Booker Claus is so super-keen.
Laying a paw across his long snout
He scratched at an itch and then barged right out.
And I heard him exclaim as he stormed off to bed,
"I've had enough. Get this hat off my head."
"I am the dog and you are the human
Even though you're as fat as the postman named Newman."
"I'm a proud canine hunter. I shall not be shamed
In your holiday pictures, so festively framed."
"I do not wear hats, have a beard or wear boots
I don't answer to Santa and I don't wear red suits."
"Stop dressing me up. I'm a dog not a doll
The next person to clothe me, I promise, I'll maul."
"You're the one who wears clothing from your head to your feet
Now stop this absurdity and give me a treat."
Happy beginning of the holiday season.
Twas a few days after Thanksgiving, and in my neighborhood
Not a scrap was uneaten; at least nothing good.
The new Christmas tree sat over there, in the corner
The sparkling white lights waiting to adorn her.
MK in her hoodie, and I feeling fat
Sat down to watch Simpsons. Or something like that.
Into the room pranced the world's strangest sight
I laughed and guffawed. I roared with delight.
There in front of the tree, sitting straight up
Was a big-eared black dog, barely a pup.
On his head sat a hat, round his neck was a cape
My jaw then did slacken. My mouth was agape.
"Quick take a picture" I exclaimed with great relish.
"I'll use it on my blog. It's lately been dullish."
I couldn't believe the sight that I'd seen.
A visit from Booker Claus is so super-keen.
Laying a paw across his long snout
He scratched at an itch and then barged right out.
And I heard him exclaim as he stormed off to bed,
"I've had enough. Get this hat off my head."
"I am the dog and you are the human
Even though you're as fat as the postman named Newman."
"I'm a proud canine hunter. I shall not be shamed
In your holiday pictures, so festively framed."
"I do not wear hats, have a beard or wear boots
I don't answer to Santa and I don't wear red suits."
"Stop dressing me up. I'm a dog not a doll
The next person to clothe me, I promise, I'll maul."
"You're the one who wears clothing from your head to your feet
Now stop this absurdity and give me a treat."
5 comments:
Hahaha! Nice poem!
Applause! Wonderful poem, great pic!
You're too hard on yourself.
I agree with MC. The poem and the pic are both awesome!
And to think that you told me off for dressing Lucy in a blonde wig on Halloween!
Anyway, I've checked with the RSCPA, and they rate dressing a dog in a Santa costume as a far worse crime against animals than putting a blonde wig on a dog.
You'll be wearing fur a la J.Lo next won't you?
Wow. That's all I can say. :)
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