The Hinklewatt Berry

The Hinklewatt Berry grows high in a tree

Way up in the mountains of Bangeladee.

Its blossom is rare, quite a sight to behold,

A beauty seen only by travelers bold.

For just once a year does it give off its fruit,

Which tastes a bit like an old moth-eaten suit.

What good can there be from a taste so off-putting?

It's great, so they say, for a chimney de-sooting.

Classic Poem #3: What Christmas is Not

In times such as these, full of holiday cheer,

A jolly old man and eight tiny reindeer,

It's best to remember what Christmas is not,

Lest we forget to remember what it is we forgot..

With thousands of twinkling lights all around,

With trees in the houses and snow on the ground,

With specials on TV and eggnog for all,

We're swept up in joy from the first day of Fall.

The closets all packed with presents on the shelves,

The lawns decorated with miniature elves,

The fireplace crackling with chestnuts and such,

All fill us with glee, quite lots and quite much.

But please, if you will, do remember one thing,

One thing very 'portant, one thing I do sing;

This season is nice, it fills us with bliss,

But if Christ hadn't come, it wouldn't exist.

So do not forget, in the midst of this fuss,

Who came down to earth and gave us Christmas.

Give props to the Lord for his Son he done sent,

And stock up on cookies, for quite soon, 'twill be Lent.