Charlie’s Black Christmas

Enough of snow foxes and cute birds… especially after a rich thick slice of a Christmas cake disaster. It’s time for a rich thick slice from the other side with this old chestnut of mine.  For children young and old. A very happy holiday celebration/Merry Christmas to all of you lovely, WordPress people and readers everywhere.

gruesome santa

Charlie touched his brown-rimmed glasses knowingly, and his freckles crinkled as he marched down to the garden’s borders.  He loved how delicate and austere it all looked at this time of year, but he remembered from school how birds and other small creatures found it difficult to find food – he contemplated eking out worms and other treasures just for them.  His smiling eyes were soon agape when he reached the hole in the deep, green hedge his father took pride in.  Charlie decided to follow a walk of unusual footprints leading off to the street, which was paved with gold – Christmas gold.

The huge, black-lead street lamp shined golden yellow onto a neighbour’s decorative efforts.  They had gone to town with sled, reindeer, Santas and lots of glittering sights and sounds.  His mind was still on the tracks and the puzzle they presented.  Charlie’s jaw dropped at the magnificence of next door’s sled where he noticed similar sized prints, and more right beside a giant Santa with glowing red and white smile, and which had a pneumatic wave for everyone.

Charlie knelt down and checked under the sled and inside of it whilst holding onto his specs; moving them up and down in inspection mode whilst murmuring the occasional ‘aha’. Charlie could see nothing really.  He scratched his head with stiff cold fingers and rubbed his cold red nose, wiping the drips on his new scarf,  saying an apology to Aunt Mildred for the mess.  He clapped his padded hands together before they clasped behind his back and a shudder took him into high-speed detective work.

He decided to sit on its large leather seat to shelter from the snow falling once again.  The sled began to move slightly, making Charlie feel a bit uneasy, but that soon went as he soon became enamoured of the blue-black sky and the twinkling stars above the white dots of snow.  The gentle snowdrops became a whirr.  From out of nowhere, a booming laugh and bells shrilly rang out behind him before sounding all around.  Charlie’s short-lived, nervous excitement was tinged with longings of the warmth of home, his mum, the Christmas tree and just about any familiar things.   But, on the other hand, Charlie thought, maybe that was Santa.  Was it Santa?

Charlie’s eyes were drawn to the sled floor and the tiny prints, which had reappeared.  He pushed his glasses onto his nose, pulling back fast when he noticed a small creature on the seat beside him. Charlie smiled at its furry paws though they were dirty and wet with very ragged nails – he was anything but cute.  Charlie’s smile was met with a scraggy, dark face and crooked, menacing teeth that dripped saliva, and which had turned the sled floor, a greenish yellow.  Charlie’s heart sank, together with the thoughts that his companion might be a Christmas elf. He held onto his red scarf from aunt Mildred and smelled his mum’s mince pies on his glove, which also bore some squished crumbs.

He was pulled out of regret, near tears, with the roar of ‘Santa’s’ instructions to the hideous 6 beasts pulling the sled.  It jolted Charlie. The horrible goblin like creature that now terrified Charlie, turned to ‘Santa’, and with a hyena’s laugh, and to Charlie’s disbelief, it shrieked the words, ‘One more, Master, and we will be done for this evening!’

Charlie, the grotesque elf and ‘Santa’ were carried into the freezing night’s blizzard – bells ringing and gruesome laughter abound.  And Charlie, at least, was never seen again.

So, be good! Lol.

Hark!

Hark!.jpg

Stark strangers loiter to scavenge thoughts once hid;
both now bustle briskly under this fair poplar

my muse, she blows keenly to rustle up these tired
parchments – not scratched e’er since autumn

closed its eyes to shades of green. Before I woke
under dreaming spires, I wrote a sonnet for you.

Me thinks to keep it safe in heart, away from her prying eyes
and strangers’ judgement, at least until summer comes.

The Raven

night-995192_640.jpg

Raven, black, atop a tree
Screamed religion spuriously
Bleak-black probed me; evil glee
Before I shot it dead

Raven crowned so hideously
In a dream he came to me
Pitch black, vacant eyes I see
Before he swooped on dread

Raven claws insidiously
Gouge my own indemnity
Black robe swoops to smother me
Before tearing flesh, he said

Raven, black, atop the tree
Why do you seek to crucify me?
I only ask as courtesy
Before I shoot you dead

Beseech (Minute)

boat and apricot tree

A Minute form.  Inspired by Michael’s rendition.

wouldst thou call upon love’s embrace
her cuffs of lace
will wrap warmly
and surround thee

as spectral lights adorn blewe sky
and ghosts loom nigh
from whence their place
to haunt your face

if thou were touched by such as she
and trumpery
wouldst thou forswear
at the black maire?

Strange Arms

tree twisting

Picture source:  Strange…tree.  Thanks Paul Militaru.

wrap me in strange arms
not sinew’s calm unity of muscle to bone
but like before when molten flesh
was writhing, malleable, lasting –
not like now with intangible flame
shot from an archer’s crossbow –
with quick precision

writhe with me in twisting turns,
not rolling ambiguity’s speech of tongues,
but like before when deception unraveled
to suffocate me with a slithering hiss –
do not place your wreath
in the space where the cobra stabs
with quick precision