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‘Twas the night before Christmas when I lay restless in bed,
a young man craving sugar plumbs from which to be fed.
But nary a hope for I am always alone in the house,
with the undying urge to nurse from an angelic spouse.
Yet I decorated a tree and hung a guest stocking with care,
hoping in the morning that I would discover her there.
I drearily watched the clock – the minutes came and they went,
another evening’s energy rendered null and just about spent.
When I could hold out no longer I began counting sheep,
until somewhere in the quietness I finally fell asleep.
Plunging deeper into the world of a beautiful dream,
it would take a team of horses to wake me, or so it seemed.Then somewhere in the house there arose such a clatter,
that I sprang from my bed to investigate the matter.
Tiptoeing very slowly so as not to make a sound,
I got to the bedroom doorway, astonished at what I had found.
For in the living room tending to my festive decorations,
was a stately woman worthy of further explorations.
Silver hair, a voluptuous figure in a red coat with fluffy white trim,
I tightened my robe, made another step, and she turned to me with a grin.
Her eyes – how they twinkled, her dimples, how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses and her nose like a cherry!
Moistened heart-shaped lips were drawn up like a bow,
and the French cut of her nails were trimmed white as the snow.
Her timeless allure was irresistible to this young fellow,
made more so by her breasts swaying like two bowls full of jello.With a wink of her eye and nod of her head,
she motioned me to approach saying that I need to be fed.
My mind began to reel and my spirit it flourished,
thinking it impossible that I was about to be nourished.
She lay on the bearskin rug in front of the fire,
and told me to join her as she knows well my desire.
I did as she directed and we took off our robes,
then she lovingly brought me close to the bounty of her globes.
She then cradled my head and kissed it with care,
as I gleefully latched-on and proceeded from there.
With a beguiling moan her milk began to flow warm and sweet,
like honey and cream blended by God into the most sumptuous treat.With arms wrapped around each other and our legs intertwined,
she told me how milk from “Cookie” became the custom of all time.
On she went about how Santa can never get enough,
citing why he’s so jolly and filled with the right stuff.
So the custom we know today was first introduced,
by a saintly couple that keeps the Mrs. fully induced.
But to gain acceptance of their most generous gift,
they brought forth the tradition with an interesting shift.
For the milk is an offering, a symbol of the incredible bond,
and cookies pay homage to the woman of whom we are most fond.Then with a smile she said “you have suckled me dry,
so it is time for one last gift before I say my goodbye.”
“Your heart has been unfulfilled but is so pure and clean,
that in the morning next to you will be the woman of your dreams.”
And right then and there she disappeared out of sight,
wishing “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a bountiful life!”Loved this
That is awesome definitely a wonderful hopefully some day it comes true. You have an amazing talent and gift
That was absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing such a well written piece it brings a magical highlight to Christmas. It also sheds a whole different light on this very special holiday. What a gift!
This is my favorite Christmas poem!
@tuehlykv Michael_Admin I really hope that Blue Skies can be added as a writer to this site! Maybe under something catchy like “Endless Blue Skies”. We could use some more male writers with experience in anr and Blue Skies has a gift with words!This is a beautiful rendition, Blue Skies! Thank you for sharing. So heartfelt and classy at the same time.
I fully support Blue Skies having a blog!
I’m glad this has been so well received.
Very talented. We both dream of that spouse! It’s only a dream till it comes true 🤔😋 this is the year! I know it!
Have a great one.
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