14 lines about St Nick
By James P. Smythe
Posted on December 14, 2015 in Fun Stuff, Hodderscape Advent with tags James Smythe
It’s traditional, at this merry time of year, to sing songs, to recite poems, to tell stories about that wonderful jolly old man we all love at this time of year. No, not Lavie! I mean, of course, Santa Claus. And this is a little known traditional petrarchan sonnet about the man. Of course, you’ll recognise the structure, I’m sure. Maybe you’ll have even heard this before. But on this, the 14th day of December, I thought it appropriate to share this massively traditional and oh-so-festive 14 line poem with you. Enjoy, and happy Festivus!
Outside all’s white, and calm, and soft, and slick
In here the fire is out, the smell damp wood
But to run now, my dear, will do no good
The door shut tight, the candle burned to wick
And deep inside your gut you feel quite sick
With fear you feel; a sense you really should
Make this end now, if only you just could
For here He is: the dreadful Old Saint Nick.
With deer of death, who growl when told Stay Put
His voice so jolly, oh, but not His eyes
So small and black like stones worn underfoot
And then He’s close, His laughter drowns your cries
Gone from your vision; then, a cloud of soot!
For you, so bad all year, are now his prize.