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Happy Families (1 Viewer)

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
(inspired by midnightpoet's poem)

T’was the day after Christmas
and all of the kids
were moaning like hell
about presents they’d missed.

The mountain of new stuff
that Santa had sent
lay strewn under sofas
all twisted and bent.

A hung-over teenager
still lounged in bed,
groaning at no-one
‘bout pains in his head.

The house was in chaos,
the kitchen was wrecked,
with grub in the carpets
and signs of neglect.

The two dogs were happy,
despite all the dross;
they’d discovered the turkey
and finished it off.

The old man was absent
and hid in the shed,
with a bottle of brandy
from his brother Ted.

Mum was relaxing,
just having a soak,
with candles and perfumes,
whilst having a smoke.

T’was the day after Christmas
and everything’s well.
It’s just life as normal
at the time of Noel.
 

petergrimes

Senior Member
Hello Jen - the calm after the storm, the shipwreck - its wreckage strewn about the house, each survivor recovering in their own way, taking time to sequester themselves safely in a place where they might come to terms and process the aftermath of the shared ordeal alone. It happened, was survived, leave the fallout to the dogs, they are wise, happily taking advantage of their masters collective institutional yearly madness. The young pup is feeling the worse, the old timers though have weathered these storms before, they too are wise, hiding in the shed - stealing the wisdom of the dogs hairs, and the fair lady, well she is of course the wisest of them all. Great poem Jen, love it, all the best PG
 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
Hello Jen - the calm after the storm, the shipwreck - its wreckage strewn about the house, each survivor recovering in their own way, taking time to sequester themselves safely in a place where they might come to terms and process the aftermath of the shared ordeal alone. It happened, was survived, leave the fallout to the dogs, they are wise, happily taking advantage of their masters collective institutional yearly madness. The young pup is feeling the worse, the old timers though have weathered these storms before, they too are wise, hiding in the shed - stealing the wisdom of the dogs hairs, and the fair lady, well she is of course the wisest of them all. Great poem Jen, love it, all the best PG

Ha ha, you got it, PG. :)
 
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