Poem created in response to Robert Lee Brewer’s Wednesday Poetry Prompt 201, 12 December 2012. Topic: numbers
I guess we’ve now reached the twelve days
of Christmas. I’m hoping I don’t
get much from the song. I’m not sure
what that true love was thinking. I
have no use for just one partridge,
but the family would be great
for entertaining my guests. Keep
the turtledoves and swap the french
hens for Cornish game, though, I’ll need
more than three. I don’t need four birds,
regardless of type, but five rings
I could pawn…extra cash is good.
Take the geese and the swans elsewhere,
but the eight maids can stay, if they
can turn that milk into nog, spiked,
if you please. Ladies dancing, yes,
but leave the poles at home..along
with the lords. Pipers and drummers
are welcome, cramped, though we may be,
until I usher then all out,
late on the Eve, so Santa can
visit with his own crew of twelve.
I think I might be able to work this and get the lines to have some sort of rhyme scheme, but there’s no way I could do that and post in a timely manner.