Erotica Readers & Writers Association Blog

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Writing Exercise - Christmas Poetry

 by Ashley Lister 

 ‘Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
My partner was laughing
‘Cause I’m hung like a mouse

She was wearing black stockings
And wielding a birch
And I quietly suspected
We weren’t going to church

As the holiday season approaches, I thought it might be fun to try something festive. As there’s no traditional poetic form associated with Christmas, I figured it would be appropriate to pick a Christmas poem and use that form.

Obviously, the first poem that came to mind was ‘The Night Before Christmas’ (‘A Visit from St Nicholas’ by Clement Clarke Moore). However, because I have always perceived this form as four line verses, with an x-a-x-a rhyme scheme and variant syllable count, I figured that wouldn’t be a sufficient challenge for the regular readers of this blog[1].

A couple of other Christmassy ditties came to mind but it was only when I was contemplating the lyrics, I realized they were songs. Frosty the Snowman at first, then Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I was about to dismiss this form as being traditional song lyrics when I realized that the form was identical to my interpretation of ‘The Night Before Christmas’: four line verses, with an x-a-x-a rhyme scheme and variant syllable count.

She thrashed and she caned me
But don’t pity my plight
I knew it wasn’t just Santa
Who’d be coming tonight

I’d never before thought
She might like CBT
But now my balls are now hanging
From her Christmas tree

So, the challenge this month is to write something festive in this traditional form.
As always, I look forward to seeing your contributions in the comments box below.  And, I hope you enjoy the festive season, however you celebrate the holidays.




[1] The original poem is written in rhyming couplets and I’ve been perceiving the caesura as the end of the line.

7 comments:

  1. This One's not for the Vicar.....

    Twas The Day After Christmas

    Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house
    Only Granma was up early in her new Christmas blouse
    Her stockings were ruffled but she didn’t care
    No one was sober enough to stare

    Her husband was snoring away in his bed
    She sniggered, when he gets up he’ll have a sore head
    Her son, was sleeping on the settee in his cap
    He’d fallen asleep half way through a film, no place to nap

    A knock at the door, oh dear such a clatter
    Granma tripped ooer the cat, oh fuck, oh shit, what’s the matter
    Forgetting her blouse wasn’t fastened she gave the policeman a flash
    As she opened the door, a breeze opened her sash

    The moon on her breast highlighted the show
    The policeman looked down to her Nora Batty’s below
    Three more behind him in plain clothes did appear
    You’d best come in, it looks like rein deer

    They wiped their size nines on the mat, then quick
    Told Granma to spread ‘em, she’s being St. Nicked
    Down to the station, its time you came
    We believe your involved in the great puddin robbery, we want a name

    Now Grannie had history, a bit of a vixen
    Late night shopping was a habit, she was blitzen
    Her blouse still open, she spread up the wall
    But she quickly turned round, stunning the cops one and all

    Just then Grandad appeared in the doorway, ‘come gal lets fly’
    With a cape that looked like a moth-eaten dressing gown they took to the sky
    Down our street, over the wreck, over the river they flew
    Hanging on for dear life, to Granma’s stockings, the cat came too

    Grandad’s flying wasn’t up to much, they barely skimmed the roof
    His wooden leg was flailing in the wind, oh Grandad mind yer hoof
    They circled a little village, no cops they could see around
    ‘We’ll drop in at your sisters, she’ll be up, I’ll be bound

    Landing wasn’t easy, a peg leg and a foot
    All three ended up in a freshly dug patch and came out black as soot
    The cat it ran away, Granma was on her back
    What an opportunity Grandad thought, opening up his pack

    So, there they were a frolicking and making merry
    Healed up after so long neglected, Granma popped her cherry
    Grandad, pleased with his efforts, straightened his dickie bow
    As Granma lay a quivering, melting the virgin snow

    Grandad asked ‘have you seen my teeth’
    Never mind, out came his pipe, he lit up, smoke circles like a wreath
    Granma smiling all aglow, a chuckle filled her belly
    Grandad’s dick had icicles, his spunk no longer jelly

    The sister ran out to enquire of their elf
    Come in, get warm, I’ve just put a brew on for myself
    The television was on, ‘they’re looking for you’, she shook her head
    ‘Four cops battered in a doorway, one was Judge Dread’

    Well we’ve still got the puddings this is going to work
    With all the Christmas leftovers, they planned a Turkey jerk
    All the meat was cut off the bird, except the parson’s nose
    With all the cooking, all the puddings, a heavenly smell it rose

    Drifting over the village, no need for a whistle
    The locals the gathered like the down of a thistle
    Granma in her posh blouse, Grandad in his ragged gown, what a sight
    Much revelry, such jollity and singing was had that night





    A parody on the original by: Clement Clarke Moore:
    Twas The Night Before Christmas

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Roy - perfect. I'm still chuckling. Great work.

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  2. This is a riot, Roy! Some very vivid imagery.

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  3. With apologies to Richard B. Smith and Felix Bernard.

    In order for this to scan exactly right, you have to put the stress on the first syllable of "endured".

    A Kinky Christmas Wonderland
    By Lisabet Sarai


    Handcuffs clink. Are you listening?
    On the slaves, sweat is glistening.
    A beautiful sight,
    Bare buttocks so tight,
    In a kinky Christmas wonderland.

    Whips and clamps to be endured...
    Just remember your safe word!
    The thrills of taboo
    Are waiting for you
    In our kinky Christmas wonderland.

    In the dungeon a black-booted woman
    Tells us we should call her Mistress Brown.
    She asks if we’re collared. We say “No, Ma’am”
    Then offer up our throats as we kneel down.

    Later on, Doms conspire,
    Branding irons in the fire.
    We’ll face unafraid
    The vows that we made
    In our kinky Christmas wonderland.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lisabet,

      That's the best festive tune I've heard this year. Thanks for brightening up my season ;-)

      Have a good one x

      Delete
  4. All tinsely and shiny our
    Yule time tree this eve
    Gifts for each to be unwrapped
    Smirks they're sure to leave

    Little whisps of lace for you
    Crotchless as you like best
    A feminine strap on harness too
    Boxing day we'll pegging test

    I left the choice of toy
    To you - flared of base dildo
    From the wrapping it appeared
    Surprise on my face sure to show

    The life like, girthy, monster
    Dong you just gave to me
    Was the 2nd last gift I have
    Beneath the Christmas tree

    You hand me the final one
    I open with trepidation
    A litre of anal lube with extracts
    For extra pleasure sensations

    I have not the words to
    Express my astonishment
    I realise Mrs Clause will be
    Delivering my punishment

    I've been a naughty boy this year
    And now my time has come
    "Bend over boyfriend! Ho! Ho! Ho!
    Let's fit this up your..."

    ReplyDelete
  5. I don't have words for how much I loved this. It's funny. It's rude and it's wonderfully festive. Thank you x

    ReplyDelete