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Lit Holiday Poem Swap

*dashes naked through the thread*

"sorry cant stay have lots to do today,

but I'll be back"

*stops briefly at the door smacks own ass*
and keeps running
 
todski28 said:
*dashes naked through the thread*

"sorry cant stay have lots to do today,

but I'll be back"

*stops briefly at the door smacks own ass*
and keeps running
Click to expand...

WOOOHOOO hehe that's a nice break from my writing assignment :p you should put out a tip jar next run through sir :p
 
todski28 said:
*dashes naked through the thread*

"sorry cant stay have lots to do today,

but I'll be back"

*stops briefly at the door smacks own ass*
and keeps running
Click to expand...

Something like this?

116998-%5Bsolved%5D-fab9-cop-spark-blowout-smack.gif
 
He's obviously proud of what he has to offer......a lot of leg-spreading and ball-dangling.

(yes, I watched it twice) :eek:
 
To me you'll always be Tess

A Rubaiyat Quatrain
.
Whose words are these? I think I know!
Her voice oft gentle, can swear though!
She's always here, I'm glad to see
to watch I don't digress or go.

My poetic voice will always be
from her encouragement to me,
when first I crept within these walls
she saw something I failed to see.

Took my confidence by the balls
and cutting out excessive schmalz,
this poetic friend has clout
to dust me off between the falls!
 
Gift

I think it was how Africa,
With its Shake Shake and
Affability

Morphed into class fear.
That is when I really
Began to miss you.

But ultimately, it’s how
You take the bus everywhere,
Because you never learned to drive,

Nor needed to, and
I’d be really happy to pick you up
And take you from Virginia anywhere.
 
Twas the night before Litmas and all through the boards
not a poet was stirring (though they lurked in hoards).
Their stockings were hung in the Hangout with care
in hopes inspiration might come to them there.
Some poets were nestled all snug in their threads
while visions of metaphors danced in their heads.
Bronze with his cigar and I with some blues
had just settled in for a prosaic snooze
when through the whole forum arose such a clatter,
I raced through the threads to see what was the matter.

To the Passion thread where I heard it the most
I hastened and opened the very first post.
A full moon hung silver on new fallen snow
that drifted and sparkled on poems set below,
and what to my wondering eyes did appear
but a miniature sleigh led by tiny reindeer
with a sly old driver who couldn't be sweeter
and I knew in a moment that it was smithpeter!

Smithpeter, I said, I thought you were dead!
He laughed when I said that and shook his blonde head,
told me we don't die when our poems can be found
and reread and cherished. Why just look around!
Then he waved at the threads, new and old poems too
and reminded me they're here because all of you
came to write and to stay; some even to live.

The he leapt from his sleigh: he had presents to give!
Inspiration and humor and showing galore,
welcomes for new poets and hugs to restore
those of us who are tired or empty or sick,
and although he had to get going right quick
he pulled out a heart with a wish that a space
could be found soon for lovers to be in one place!
He said just keep writing, just try every day
and with that he jumped back into his sleigh
and I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight
Merry Christmas dear poets and to all a good write!
 
Angeline said:
Twas the night before Litmas and all through the boards
not a poet was stirring (though they lurked in hoards).
Their stockings were hung in the Hangout with care
in hopes inspiration might come to them there.
Some poets were nestled all snug in their threads
while visions of metaphors danced in their heads.
Bronze with his cigar and I with some blues
had just settled in for a prosaic snooze
when through the whole forum arose such a clatter,
I raced through the threads to see what was the matter.

To the Passion thread where I heard it the most
I hastened and opened the very first post.
A full moon hung silver on new fallen snow
that drifted and sparkled on poems set below,
and what to my wondering eyes did appear
but a miniature sleigh led by tiny reindeer
with a sly old driver who couldn't be sweeter
and I knew in a moment that it was smithpeter!

Smithpeter, I said, I thought you were dead!
He laughed when I said that and shook his blonde head,
told me we don't die when our poems can be found
and reread and cherished. Why just look around!
Then he waved at the threads, new and old poems too
and reminded me they're here because all of you
came to write and to stay; some even to live.

The he leapt from his sleigh: he had presents to give!
Inspiration and humor and showing galore,
welcomes for new poets and hugs to restore
those of us who are tired or empty or sick,
and although he had to get going right quick
he pulled out a heart with a wish that a space
could be found soon for lovers to be in one place!
He said just keep writing, just try every day
and with that he jumped back into his sleigh
and I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight
Merry Christmas dear poets and to all a good write!
Click to expand...
..
Litmas :snorts: inspired A :cool:
 
Angeline said:
Twas the night before Litmas and all through the boards
not a poet was stirring (though they lurked in hoards).
Their stockings were hung in the Hangout with care
in hopes inspiration might come to them there.
Some poets were nestled all snug in their threads
while visions of metaphors danced in their heads.
Bronze with his cigar and I with some blues
had just settled in for a prosaic snooze
when through the whole forum arose such a clatter,
I raced through the threads to see what was the matter.

To the Passion thread where I heard it the most
I hastened and opened the very first post.
A full moon hung silver on new fallen snow
that drifted and sparkled on poems set below,
and what to my wondering eyes did appear
but a miniature sleigh led by tiny reindeer
with a sly old driver who couldn't be sweeter
and I knew in a moment that it was smithpeter!

Smithpeter, I said, I thought you were dead!
He laughed when I said that and shook his blonde head,
told me we don't die when our poems can be found
and reread and cherished. Why just look around!
Then he waved at the threads, new and old poems too
and reminded me they're here because all of you
came to write and to stay; some even to live.

The he leapt from his sleigh: he had presents to give!
Inspiration and humor and showing galore,
welcomes for new poets and hugs to restore
those of us who are tired or empty or sick,
and although he had to get going right quick
he pulled out a heart with a wish that a space
could be found soon for lovers to be in one place!
He said just keep writing, just try every day
and with that he jumped back into his sleigh
and I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight
Merry Christmas dear poets and to all a good write!
Click to expand...

Applause :nana:
 
If we're going there ............ exhumed from last year!
.
Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the gutter
nothing was heard
not even a mutter.
.
A drunk Santa was slumped
on a bench fast asleep
his hands on his tackle
dreaming of sheep.
.
Then out in the street
there arose such a clunk
the crashing of bottles
had awaken the drunk.
.
He sprang to his feet
but his legs were like lead
so he fell on his ass
and broke wind instead.
.
As he staggered away
somebody stammered
he's nice enough sober
but not when he's hammered.
.
 
UnderYourSpell said:
If we're going there ............ exhumed from last year!
.
Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the gutter
nothing was heard
not even a mutter.
.
A drunk Santa was slumped
on a bench fast asleep
his hands on his tackle
dreaming of sheep.
.
Then out in the street
there arose such a clunk
the crashing of bottles
had awaken the drunk.
.
He sprang to his feet
but his legs were like lead
so he fell on his ass
and broke wind instead.
.
As he staggered away
somebody stammered
he's nice enough sober
but not when he's hammered.
.
Click to expand...


Glad you posted it. It's hilarious! :D
 
My Yuletide is not complete without two words
Merry Christmas are those that wait to be heard.
Hold up, now! I think I forgot another three -
I love you, not just someone special, but everybody.
Without this thought held close to my heart
I fear that this season just couldn't start
to be felt in the halls, in the homes and the stores;
nor in the churches and temples, through any door!
Stand now with me and let your heart song rise
up through your lips, past the trees to the skies,
over forests and lakes and mountains and seas.
The notes carry a blessing contained in all of these
blessed words that we say with our spirits so true
Merry Christmas, dear friends, I love you.
 
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