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2017 Advent Calendar - Day 5
#1

The South Pacifc Advent Calendar

Christmas Writing Challenge!

It's that time of the year again - time to open up our Christmas Writing competition. This year you need to write a poem or a short story (not less than 500 words) inspired by the following gif...
 

Entries should be posted to this thread, or telegrammed to Erinor. The winner will be announced on Christmas Eve (24th December) and they and their festive magnum opus will be celebrated on the WFE until New Year.
Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.
Salma 145:8
#2

A Penguin Holiday Poem:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the flock
Not a penguin was stirring, not even a squawk;
The stockings were hung by the nests with such care,
In hopes that Cat Nicholas soon would be there.

The young chicks were nestled all snug in their nests;
While visions of yummy fish danced through their rests;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the water there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my rest to see what was the matter.
Away to the iceshelf I flew like a flash,
Jumped over the clutter and dove with a splash.

The moon in the crest of its wintery glow,
Gave a lustre of midday in the ocean below,
And before my wandering eyes and my bill,
Appeared a miniature sub and eight tiny krill.

With a plump furry driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be Cat Nick.
More rapid than seals his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and purred, and called them by name:

"Now, Custae! now, Baleen! now Plankton and Minke!
On, Fatty! on Greasy! on, Oily and Stinky!
To the top of the berg! to the top of the ice!
Now splash away! splash away! splash away nice!"

As snow that before the wild storm fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the iceshelf the coursers they flew
With the sub full of fish, and Cat Nicholas too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard with a thrill
The prancing and pawing of each little krill.
As I drew up on the rocks, and was turning around,
Into the flock Cat Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his tail,
And his whiskers were frosted with snow and with scale;
A bundle of fish he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a turkey or some sort of snack.

 His eyes—how they twinkled! his whiskers, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the tip of his chin was as white as the snow;

The tail of a fish he held tight in his teeth,
And the steam encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a soft looking belly
That shook when he meowed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old cat,
And I laughed when I saw him, as he slipped in some scat;
A wink of his eye and a purr from his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Putting fish in our stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his paw up aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, off the iceshelf he arose;

He sprang to his sub, and to his team gave a hail,
And away they all swam with a wake like a whale.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he dove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Legislator | Local Councilor | Aspiring TSP Curmudgeon
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#3

By New Haudenosaunee Confederacy from the North Pacific (sent in via TG):

“Dear Santa”, I wrote, “I have been wanting one thing for my whole life, ever since I was born: A pet dog. I see them everywhere, with everybody except me. Not having one makes me feel like I don't fit in; it makes me feel rejected. Could you please get me a dog for christmas” Crap, the C needs to be capital I thought. I needed a cap eraser. I got out of my chair to go grab one and then I also decide to get a lampshade of SPIT, as I haven't drank for hours. I come back to my chair only to see my brother saying, “Dude, your fuc-”, and then I said “Stop swearing, bitch!”, and then he continued: “Dude, you're 12 and you still believe in Santy Claus? Are you retarded?” I didn't know how to respond, but said “If he’s fake, then why do mom and dad tell us he’s real?” He thought about it for a minute, then said, “Because they want you to celebrate Christmas instead of Hanukkah or whatever” which sounded completely ridiculous because I’m Christian! I told him to get out, fixed my mistake, and was ready to send it.
The next morning I woke up, ran down the stairs, begging to open presents. There was literally half a mile of presents, because how rich my parents were, just for me and my brother and I was ready to rip them open. My parents walked down the stairs and said, “yeah, go ahead” and I ripped through them: “I got a lampshade of SPIT!” yelled my brother; “Wow, I got an NHC flag!” I said “and Toki Pona: The Language of Goodby Sonja Lang! Thanks!” After hours of shredding through gifts, I realized that I got nothing from Santa; but my brother didn't either. “See, he isn't real!”, says my brother.
It was about time for dinner. I walked out to the dining room where our guests would be meeting us. They arrived, bursting through the door: “Hello, aunt, uncle, grandmother, and grandmother,” I said, “Would you like a lampshade of SPIT?” They said yes, and I of course gave them some. They sat down at the table, waiting for dinner to be served. My dad all of a sudden bursts in and says that it’ll probably be another 30 minutes. I’m asked what presents I got, and I said “I got an NHC flag, and a guide to the Toki Pona language,” and I then continued talking about the cool things I got.
My dad walked into the room, saying “Dinner is ready!” Everything is slowly brought out; the main course being last. He revealed the main course, but it wasn't what we thought: “What the heck, it's a cat”, said my grandmother; “Is this why I wasn't pranked on April Fool's Day’, said my brother. It had a note with it. The note read: “Dogs are overrated, have a cat instead - Santa.” Everybody in the room looked at me with a suspicious glance. “Welp, I guess we're going to McDonald's-”, says my Dad, until he’s interupted by my aunt saying, “I prefer Burger King”, despite us going to McDonald's anyway. It still was a good dinner though…
Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.
Salma 145:8
#4

It's Christmas Eve and I'm pleased to announce the winner of our writing competition.

And the winner is....Volaworand, for his wonderful retelling of 'A Visit from Saint Nicholas', 'A Penguin Holiday Poem'.

You'll get your name honoured on the region's WFE, including a link to your festive writing.

Thank you, also, to NHC for participating.  Your story made me giggle too, so it was a difficult choice!
Founder of the Church of the South Pacific [Forum Thread] [Discord], a safe place to discuss spirituality for people of all faiths and none (currently looking for those interested in prayer and/or "home" groups);
And The Silicon Pens [Discord], a writer's group for the South Pacific and beyond!

Yahweo usenneo ir varleo, ihraneo jurlaweo hraseu seu, ir jiweveo arladi.
Salma 145:8




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