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.