The Spirit Of Christmas To Come
The ghost slid down the rabbit hole
on a dark wintery night.
He expected to arrive in Wonderland
if such a place exists
and he believed it did,
just as he believed in ghosts and Santa Claus.
It was as he expected.
There was a full glass on a table.
He looked for a label saying:
“Drink Me”.
But there was no label.
So he drank it anyway.
It left a nice warm feeling inside him,
“spirit for the spirit”, he laughed aloud.
There was a plate of pastries.
He looked for a label saying:
“Eat Me”,
but there was no label.
So he ate them anyway,
all of them
every last crumb,
every succulent morsel of mincemeat.
He lay back contentedly
then smiled somewhat sheepishly
at the old man dressed in red carrying a large sack
who must have followed him down the rabbit hole.
He was looking none too pleased at the scene.
“Well”, said the ghost,
“Anyone can mistake a chimney for a rabbit hole
and we need a new Christmas story.”
on a dark wintery night.
He expected to arrive in Wonderland
if such a place exists
and he believed it did,
just as he believed in ghosts and Santa Claus.
It was as he expected.
There was a full glass on a table.
He looked for a label saying:
“Drink Me”.
But there was no label.
So he drank it anyway.
It left a nice warm feeling inside him,
“spirit for the spirit”, he laughed aloud.
There was a plate of pastries.
He looked for a label saying:
“Eat Me”,
but there was no label.
So he ate them anyway,
all of them
every last crumb,
every succulent morsel of mincemeat.
He lay back contentedly
then smiled somewhat sheepishly
at the old man dressed in red carrying a large sack
who must have followed him down the rabbit hole.
He was looking none too pleased at the scene.
“Well”, said the ghost,
“Anyone can mistake a chimney for a rabbit hole
and we need a new Christmas story.”
Comments
Post a Comment