WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ A FRACTURED DAY AFTER POEM

'Twas the AM after Christmas, when all thro' the house,
Snoring could be heard from all, even the wall mouse;
The stockings were empty, and scattered without care,
The dog had chewed them, yup more than a single tear;
The home from college kids slept soundly in their beds,
While visions of frat parties dance'd in their heads,
And Mama in her red sweats, and I holding the sick cat
Had just settled our brains for a long over-due chat
When out at the curb there arose such an awful clatter,
The mail carrier stuffed the mailbox with billing matter.
Away to the window I flew like a sprinting flash,
Tore open the window, puked on yesterday's trash.
The sun illuminated the plowed two-day-old snow,
And all I could thing about was those dang bills below;
When, what to my blood-shot eyes should oddly appear,
A miniature hybrid, it's hood boasting antlers from a deer,
The drive was an elder senior, true, but ever so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be very rich Uncle Dick.
More rapid than eagles his shouted greetings they came,
He whistled, and bellowed, and call'd us all by name:
"Now! Nash boy. Now! Dawn girl, and doggie Vixen,
"Dougie!  Sue, n-whats-er name, the cat Blixem?
"Come out to the porch, to the top of the walk!
"Get your buns outta bed, we all gotta talk!"

The wind blew used wrapping paper, as if it could fly,
Upward so swift, Uncle Dick watched it take to the sky;
So up to the steps he climbed with his wobbly cane,
His head whipping this way and that as if a bit insane.
And then in a twinkling, I heard the front door chime

But soon the pounding began as if tapping out a rhyme .
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
In through the door, Uncle Dick came with a bound:
He was dress'd all in leather, from his foot to his head,
The mouse and the dog and the black cat instantly fled;
An odd sack of stuff was flung pertly on his back,
And he look'd like a hitch-hiker with nary but this pack:
His eyes - how they squinted! His wrinkles so, so many,
His cheeks like parchment, his nose shone like a penny;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a pinched bow,
And the beard of his chin was as gray as tainted snow;
The stump of a stogie, he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke stank like a needle-less wreath.
He had a broad face, and a shirt button straining belly
That shook when he coughed, like a melting mold of jelly:
Oh, he was chubby and plump, but grizzle say some,
I laugh'd when I saw him for most thought him a bum;
But with a wink of his eye, a chortle, and a twist of his head
He held up a fat envelope, and I knew I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his busy work,
And fill'd just my stocking alone; then turn'd with a jerk,
After a snort and a sneeze, he well blew his long hook nose
And giving a satisfied nod, out the door he went on tippy toe.
He sprung into his hybrid, gunned the engines and gave a whistle,
And away he went down the street, after running over the thistle:
I heard him exclaim, as his blared his horn and roared out of sight-
"Money in stocking to pay the bills, no collectors to fight."

A: Now, that is what I call a Merry Day After Christmas.

Z:  We should all have a rich Uncle Dick!

***

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.



Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com