The poem, A Marvelous Day, is based on a prompt from my poetry writing course and the book Writing Poems by Boisseau, Michelle and Wallace, Robert. If you want some new ideas and concepts to work on for poetry, I recommend the book!    Here's my poem now! :) ..check it out!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

Which reminds me of Christmas Eve, Santa chugging down a Bud Light kind of memory?

 

I tip toed like a tapper to the kitchen, eager to search stockings, and found

Santa passed out near the plate of cookies.

 

I giggled mindlessly at the alcoholic but, naivety wouldn’t stop me from saving

the world. How would children feel if Santa forgot to ride his sleigh

down the bricks of thrilling, premeditated dreams?

 

Tomorrow is a marvelous day.

 

I whisper in the mans half a heart ears, “Wake up dude, will you? I’ve been

good this year.” His body laid face down but, I wish I saw his smile.

 

I raised my voice an octave higher, “For real, wake up dude. A Barbie and

make-up kit is on my list. Is it here?” Intolerance grew like a parasite inside

of me.

 

My lips tighten and eyes twitch, “Wake up Santa! I’ll let all the dwarfs

know about this night! I’m telling on you!” Suddenly, the floor made a

shrieking sound and a shadowy figure made its way to the edge of the stairs.

 

A sweet but, stern voice calls out to me as I bury my eyes behind the tree

of charms. Mom yells, “Honey, it is way past your bed time. What are you

still doing up?”

 

I begin to rehearse moments when I earned 30 extra minutes of T.V. or a second

helping of dessert before dinner time. The negotiation process

is soon put into play.

 

“Five more minutes, Santa needs my help,” I proclaim boldly.

 

My mother disagrees and reassures me that she’ll take care of Santa.

I sluggishly drag my feet up the stairs.

 

“Don’t worry,” my mom says coyly, “Christmas is almost here.

Tomorrow is a marvelous day.”       

My mother nudges Santa with her foot and my hopes of helping diminish.

Twenty years later, life nudges my memory...

 

I cling to my boyfriend as he playfully sips the last wave of beer

from the can. He wants to know if his buddies have extra beer.                                                     

He walks out the door the night before Valentines Day. I wonder when he'll return.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Tomorrow is a marvelous day.                                                                                                   

Which reminds me of Christmas Eve, Santa chugging down a Bud Light kind of memory?