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This is my entry for Sally Apokedak’s Christmas Carol Writing Contest
Tune: Jolly Old St. Nicholas
Jolly Ms. sweet Apokedak,
Lean your ear this way;
Don’t you want a manuscript
to brighten up your day?
A miracle is coming soon;
Now you dear, wo-man, (This line would sound better if you WERE a man!)
Whisper what I need to do;
Tell me if you can.
I’m writing rhyme on napkins,
and I don’t give a “bleep!”
I’m fully caffeinated
because I never sleep.
My ending words that rhyme,
will glisten like the snow.
The three or more syllables;
Beguiling and apropos.
Angie wants an agent;
Angela wants a deal;
Ang wants a picture book,
As for me, my groveling
looks desperate at best.
PLEASE CHOOSE MINE, (uhem) dear Sally Claus,
Or…what you think is best.
This is is my entry for Susanna Leonard Hill’s Holiday Mishap Writing Contest.
by Angie Karcher
This Christmas adventure had danger and thrill.
We chose to accept it,as most brave kids will.
Our mission, to light the fur tree in our yard,
though risky and perilous, really, quite hard.
We wore Santa hats, decked with bells and white fur,
in case we got lost, they would hear where we were.
An old pair of gloves caused a very big fight.
He got the left glove and then I got the right.
The lights were thrown over the top branch with ease.
This was expert tree lighting tree expertise.
The blink-twinkling lights were strung around the tree.
We sang Christmas carols, my brother and me.
This tree expedition was going as planned.
Then…the lights, they got stuck. Things got way out of hand.
I ascended the tree with danger in sight.
Now…my boot was stuck too, wedged in nice and tight.
This pose wasn’t good, I just had to admit.
My legs, they were stretched in a very fine split!
My brother, he giggled and turned shades of blue.
Meanwhile, I just dangled there caught by my shoe.
When, all of a sudden, the panic hit me.
I realized, “Oh No, I have got to go pee!”
The way I was standing was not good I’m told,
‘cause this made it difficult, tricky to hold.
I tried, without luck, to hold back the rain.
The whistle’s a blowin’ and here comes the train!
The more that I laughed, the more that it rained down.
My boot, it filled up, like a wet, flooded town.
Those boots I had worn were for keeping out rain.
But someone forgot they should put in a drain!
By the time my mom saw the look on my face,
I was a poinsettia, just shoved in a vase.
My petals were wilted when they helped me down.
The train…it was gone now, way past this damp town.
Have you ever worn a chilled boot filled with pee?
Don’t ever attempt it! It happened to me!