Twas a wintry night long, long ago
and you could hear Jingle Bells being sung,
a breath of air, and the chill froze it,
and tall houses gleamed in the night-
frozen with red, green, white lights;
there, thru the window, in a room,
I was spawled on the floor playing Nintendo,
when my parents said: "Time to go,
we are going to see the christmas lights."
I groaned, hating christmas lights,
but off I went, anyway, out into the cold,
with ear muffs and heavy coat and mittens,
while the frost stung my nose-
abruptly, I had a cold, and I felt terrible,
but off, in the cold, Santa had me hauled;
the clouds were gone, the night vast,
when a chorus of "Hallelujah" erupted,
the music filling the night, and children
and old alike singing merrily;
Oh yea, their faces were blushin' red
but smiling, and distantly I remembered
what it had been once, like that,
with cymbals ringing, and the warmth;
the snow laid glittering thinly
on "evergreen" grass, southern winds stirring;
my father stopped to talk with neighbors,
and I pulled out another kleenex
and another, as the minutes rolled by,
christmas lights flashing around in a daze
red, white, yellow, green, aah!
It so streamed into the street
like a royal ballroom dance, lights white
and distorted with many dresses,
different colors and different accents-
but all my eyes saw was pure madness:
people laughing and embracing,
as I stifled a ~yawn~ and then ~sigh~...
when will madness this ever end?
I longed for the stars, I longed for heaven,
its splendours, its gentle kisses,
but why christmas lights, burn me, why?
The aroma of fresh spice in the air
fit the songs, and the mint in my mouth;
a night fit for a queenly feast indeed,
as I smelled the trees in the Woodlands,
in Texas, in the eastern region,
nigh the Gulf of Mexico, where summers
are hot as fire, but merry as sailors;
snow was rare, but lights were many,
tall houses filled the hills and forests,
and ol' Cochran would've been done proud!
I was a young lad of fifteen,
hater of winter, lover of summer,
hater of icy weather, lover of the raging seas,
as the sea called out, "ah hoy, matey!"
Those were my deep thoughts
fervently calling, fervently longing...
The wood reindeers fit nicely in the snow,
lights wrapping around its hinds
and body, and ascending upon trees-
I pleaded sweetly for the night to end,
but my dad said, "We're going for a drive,
Come on! It'll be fun!"
My terror unleashed, by far the worst,
more lights meant bad dreams,
but off the van went, a hour's drive
towards the non-badlands,
but to me, it was truly the badlands.
In the badlands, the houses shone
like fire in the sky, a huge fireball scattered,
one by one they were endlessly on fire;
angels topped some roofs, Mary sat there
with Jesus in the cradle, Joseph with the staff,
pertifying lights wove their siren songs
emitting forth, dashing in waves unbreakable,
music in everyone's eyes but mine.
Hours later, the van pulled into our cul-de-sac,
lights festooning with moon rain;
it was beautiful, evergreen with moonlight,
the trees tall, with hinges and limbs outward,
but truly disturbed by christmas lights.
Into the house I stepped, taking off shoes,
then running to the computer
and prompted it to boot, opened Netscape,
and found e-mail from my christmas pal;
the night was dark but moon spilled through
anon for now and eternity;
Pale the moon shines on my face
this night, this age, this world of darkness.
I am the child of the Phantom of the Opera.
[This message has been edited by Artur Hawkwing (edited 08-13-99).]