Christmas Proseack


Christmas seems to bring out the worst in versifiers and rhymesters. I suppose it is a pretty cheesy time. Anyway I got to thinking whether any decent stuff about the festive season had been written by fully fledged poets.

The answer is not a lot. Well not a lot that’s any less cheesy than anything else. Messer’s Longfellow, Auden, Graves, Herrick, Thackeray, Milton, Rossetti and Wordsworth are just a few who have felt the need to pen a few words on the subject of bells, fir trees, mistletoe, snowy landscapes, Kings and little babes in swaddling clothes. But it seems that no matter how well they start, they all descend into a mess of mushy sentiment.

I suppose the most famous Christmas poem is what has become known as ‘Twas the night before Christmas’ published anonymously in a local newspaper in New York in 1823 and claimed thirteen years later by Clement Clark Moore. Although his authorship is now in question. I particularly like the following two lines”
“He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.”

I can associate with this, it’s down to earth, charming, human - albeit too close to home! My own Christmas verse, ‘They’re Coming To You’ and dedicated to all mothers, is in my book ‘Off My Chest’ – now being reprinted and in stock before Christmas.