Good tidings
Fear me, if you dare.
Laugh at me, if you must.
But enjoy this, if you will.
THE BASTARD
The land lay in darkness, the sun out of sight.
Every one of them slept, their eyes shut nice and tight.
When out of the darkness, a shadow so sleek
Floated down to the ground from the Mountain’s high peak.
With scarce but a whisper, the pod hovered past
The windows of homes housing those asleep fast.
It paused on a rooftop, and a shadow emerged.
It flowed to a chimney, then downward it surged.
Inside, in the darkness, the shadow was swift,
As it slipped o’er the floor ‘til if found the first gift.
From out of the gloom, a form suddenly rose
And knelt down to pick up the box at its toes.
The Bastard, you see, had a growing concern.
This concern, you will learn, made his frigid heart burn.
The Whos down in Who-ville had begun to give gifts,
And the Bastard could see, within Who-ville, slight shifts
Toward impatience and greed as the time now grew near
For the celebration of gifts, rather than that of cheer.
He had seen this sad trend throughout much of the world.
As he thought of it happening here, rage unfurled.
He would stop it! He must! He would take these foul things.
All their stupid new gadgets and diamond rings!
It would pain them, he knew, to lose such possessions.
But to know true joy, they must make such concessions.
The Bastard kept going onward, from house to house,
Taking all the wrapped gifts (even one for a mouse!)
It was a quarter past dawn when he nabbed the last box.
He shoved it all in the pod, which sank low on its shocks.
Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!
He soared up the mountain with wrapped gifts in tow,
To await the inevitable chaos below.
It gave him no joy to thus deprive the Whos,
But he knew that to win, sometimes one must lose.
He grew curious now, as the light slowly grew,
And he found himself peeking in a wrapped gift or two.
One held a candle, another a flower;
These were not symbols of riches or power!
He found gifts of Nature, and symbols of Hope,
As the days now were shortest, the Whos chose to cope.
And today, on the Solstice, they gave gifts of cheer,
Of the promise of warmth and light for next year.
The Bastard was stunned; he had nothing to say.
He had misjudged the Whos and their views on the day.
He gazed down in the Valley, to know what the Whos found,
And grew slowly aware of a new, joyous sound.
Dawn dinosaur calls made the dark forest ring,
And the awoken Whos suddenly started to sing!
And they sang long and loud, gathered ‘round their hearths,
With songs from this world and all possible Earths.
And he knew, as his heart unclenched from a fist,
Peace lay at the head of every list.
He broke into a wide, silly grin, and Whos say,
That the Bastard’s cold heart grew three sizes that day.
He flew down from Mount Jennifer, down from her peak,
By his side rode the bright-eyed and tongue-lolling Freak.
And he brought back the gifts! And the food for the feast!
And he…HE HIMSELF!…the Bastard carved the roast Beast!
(The Beast, by the by, had come in through the Rift.
Seeking to take this whole realm as a gift.
With great gnashing teeth and huge, fiery claws,
It gave all the Whos and the animals pause.
But they would not give up, O those dinos and Whos!
To fight or to die, the time had come to choose.
So they banded together, and their brave ranks did swell
And the Beast saw its Eden transformed into Hell.)
The party was joyous; one none would forget,
As the sun rode along on its shortest arc yet.
The Bastard raised Aztequila and led them in song.
When you revel in shadows, the night’s never too long!
Happy holidays.
Pura vida.
Laugh at me, if you must.
But enjoy this, if you will.
THE BASTARD
The land lay in darkness, the sun out of sight.
Every one of them slept, their eyes shut nice and tight.
When out of the darkness, a shadow so sleek
Floated down to the ground from the Mountain’s high peak.
With scarce but a whisper, the pod hovered past
The windows of homes housing those asleep fast.
It paused on a rooftop, and a shadow emerged.
It flowed to a chimney, then downward it surged.
Inside, in the darkness, the shadow was swift,
As it slipped o’er the floor ‘til if found the first gift.
From out of the gloom, a form suddenly rose
And knelt down to pick up the box at its toes.
The Bastard, you see, had a growing concern.
This concern, you will learn, made his frigid heart burn.
The Whos down in Who-ville had begun to give gifts,
And the Bastard could see, within Who-ville, slight shifts
Toward impatience and greed as the time now grew near
For the celebration of gifts, rather than that of cheer.
He had seen this sad trend throughout much of the world.
As he thought of it happening here, rage unfurled.
He would stop it! He must! He would take these foul things.
All their stupid new gadgets and diamond rings!
It would pain them, he knew, to lose such possessions.
But to know true joy, they must make such concessions.
The Bastard kept going onward, from house to house,
Taking all the wrapped gifts (even one for a mouse!)
It was a quarter past dawn when he nabbed the last box.
He shoved it all in the pod, which sank low on its shocks.
Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings!
The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!
He soared up the mountain with wrapped gifts in tow,
To await the inevitable chaos below.
It gave him no joy to thus deprive the Whos,
But he knew that to win, sometimes one must lose.
He grew curious now, as the light slowly grew,
And he found himself peeking in a wrapped gift or two.
One held a candle, another a flower;
These were not symbols of riches or power!
He found gifts of Nature, and symbols of Hope,
As the days now were shortest, the Whos chose to cope.
And today, on the Solstice, they gave gifts of cheer,
Of the promise of warmth and light for next year.
The Bastard was stunned; he had nothing to say.
He had misjudged the Whos and their views on the day.
He gazed down in the Valley, to know what the Whos found,
And grew slowly aware of a new, joyous sound.
Dawn dinosaur calls made the dark forest ring,
And the awoken Whos suddenly started to sing!
And they sang long and loud, gathered ‘round their hearths,
With songs from this world and all possible Earths.
And he knew, as his heart unclenched from a fist,
Peace lay at the head of every list.
He broke into a wide, silly grin, and Whos say,
That the Bastard’s cold heart grew three sizes that day.
He flew down from Mount Jennifer, down from her peak,
By his side rode the bright-eyed and tongue-lolling Freak.
And he brought back the gifts! And the food for the feast!
And he…HE HIMSELF!…the Bastard carved the roast Beast!
(The Beast, by the by, had come in through the Rift.
Seeking to take this whole realm as a gift.
With great gnashing teeth and huge, fiery claws,
It gave all the Whos and the animals pause.
But they would not give up, O those dinos and Whos!
To fight or to die, the time had come to choose.
So they banded together, and their brave ranks did swell
And the Beast saw its Eden transformed into Hell.)
The party was joyous; one none would forget,
As the sun rode along on its shortest arc yet.
The Bastard raised Aztequila and led them in song.
When you revel in shadows, the night’s never too long!
Happy holidays.
Pura vida.