‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through The Moose Lodge,
not a creature was stirring, except for Robbie Cat with a hairball to dislodge.
The stockings were hung on the retro faux wood paneling with care,
In hopes that Santa Claus soon would be there.
George and Maya were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While visions of monster trucks and shiny things danced through their heads;
and I in my night dress and Parke in his Yale cap,
had just settled our monkey brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the river there arose such endless chatter,
I sprang from the warmth of our cozy king sized bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash, - tripped on the cat and fell, splat!
I pulled back the visqueen and tossed back the cat.
The moon on the surface of the frozen river below,
gave the appearance of glitter among all that snow.
When what to my sleepy eyes should appear,
but a pack of wolves on a downed carbiou, how queer!
With a wild persistence, so primal and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be a kick.
More rapid than ravens, the wolves, they came,
and the alpha, Tate, yipped, howled and called the pack by name!
“Now Dolphus! Now, Dib! now, Phelan and Vilkas!
On, Connal! On, Channon! On, Dante and Beowulf!
To the heart of the beast. To the heart of it all,
Now feed away! Feed away! Feed away all!”
As dry snow that before the wild north winds fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, and take flight in the sky.
Howling up to the moon the pack did salute,
With the sounds of owls punctuating the night - hoot, hoot!
And then, in an instant, I heard through the glass
The howling and yelping of each wild wolf - what a gas!
As I taped back the visqueen and was turning around,
Up the stairs Honey and Petzl came with a bound.
Their eyes - how they twinkled, their teeth, how scary!
Their hackles were like spikes, their tails cautionary!
Their snarling mouths were drawn up tight,
They quivered when they growled, and were yearning to bite.
The stump of a caribou leg, Tate held tight in his teeth,
And the young wolf, Channon encircled the pack like a thief.
They had wild expressions on their expressionless faces,
Of wisdom and memories of running in wild endless races.
Beowulf spoke not a word, but when straight to his work,
And dismantled the torso, and ripped out the heart with a jerk!
And laying his paw aside of the kill,
and giving a howl, up to the frozen moonlit hill.
Beowulf grabbed a leg tight in his teeth, to his team gave a howl,
And away they drug the caribou with the absence of growls.
But I heard them exclaim, as they slipped out of sight,
“Ah-Ah, Wooooooooooooooooo!!!” to which I say, with all my might:
“Happy Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!”
|Photo by: Parke Ruesch|
Peace this Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!
- Honey Mama
|Photo by: H.M. Wild|
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Please Come Along on with us on Our Journey Home!
|Photo by: H.M. Wild|
Wolf Names were chosen using: http://ilovewerewolves.com/wolf-names-and-meanings/
Tate (Alpha Male): “Stalking Wolf” - Native American
Dolphus: “Noble Wolf” - German
Dib: “Wolf” - Arabic
Phelan: “Like a Wolf” - Irish
Vilkas: “Wolf” - Lithuanian
Conall: “Strong as a Wolf” - Irish
Channon: “Young Wolf” - English
Beowulf: “Intellegent Wolf” - Anglo-Saxon
The idea to parody my favorite seasonal poem came from Writer’s Digest Christmas Poem Parody Prompt:
Parody of the Original Poem By: Clement C. Moore
Share your parody (even if you just write a line or two) at Honey Mama Runs Wild!