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.”


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