Today, we reveal a Yule poem from Miss Nonette Shenanigan! If you have been to the Green Dragon on Fridays, you might have seen her uncle Matzo sitting at the back, grumbling about the loud music and all the racket. His nieces Nonette and Mira are merrier though! The picture is from Piandao.
Yule comes upon us soon, and Miralith's gone to find a tree!
Nowt better than that piney scent, to fill us all with Yule glee.
We've pushed the shelves and chairs aside, cleared a place for it on the floor,
I hope its tall and wide and grand but still fits through the door!
We'll dress it with bows and baubles, beset the branches with fireflies;
And for the top, with elvish luck, we'll coax a star down from the skies.
But surely such a perfect tree, will take Mira long to find,
So while I wait for her return, I'll taste the spicy wine.
(Nonette drinks from a steaming mug of mulled wine. She gives a thumbs up. Delicious!)
The drink is brewing nicely, but I'm getting dirty looks,
For my uncle's in the kitchen grumbling loudly while he cooks.
Any other day ol' Matzo's face could make an onion cry,
But tonight, although he's moaning, there's a sparkle in his eye,
He's chopped and mixed and toiled all day, and put it in to bake,
But tonight he'll get to taste the food he worked so hard to make,
There's bangers, sprouts and parsnips, and roasted taters I have heard,
and cranberries, stuffing and chestnuts, and a big ol' roasted bird!
But it'll be a little while till the grub is ready to eat,
so I'll grab a mug of ale and to the fire I'll retreat.
(Nonette drinks deeply from a freshly drawn mug of pumpkin ale, and wobbles a bit.)
Our hole ish looking purty, everywhere are wreathes of candles,
Little Chaline's grinnin' wide as she puts stockings on the mantle,
She and all the other chilluns are now filled with bubbly joy,
Theysh all been talking day and night 'bout Father Yule's toys,
Chickweed's shtealing from the biscuits as she sets out Santa's lot,
Sherry, wine and brandy and a flagon full of scotch.
A fine Shire selection, I can't decide which one ish best...
Sho to Father Yule's health, I'll put the lot of 'em to the test!
(Nonette drinks.)
Theesh fire shure is burnin' now, and thish room is all a-spin,
I'll jush shepp outshide to get shom air before the fun beginnsh,
Jush shufty out into the night where powdersh fallin' fresh,
Nae more'n two schtep out th' door, I'm flat uppon me arsch,
I've losh me feskin' sherry glash, mush to me growin' woe,
An' I hope to the hevvins thish spreddin' wet ish jus' the feskin' sch-snow.
Wheatberry's out schoppin' logs, an' sees me bruise me flippin' pride,
An' Mira'sh brawt beck a bleedin' tree! They drag ush bowf inshide.
Foodsh reddy, treesh up an' theesh cannles shinnin brite,
Heppy Yoole ta all, and to all a gud ni.....
(Nonette nods off midsentence, and finishes her poem with a large snore.)
Zzzz......
Nowt better than that piney scent, to fill us all with Yule glee.
We've pushed the shelves and chairs aside, cleared a place for it on the floor,
I hope its tall and wide and grand but still fits through the door!
We'll dress it with bows and baubles, beset the branches with fireflies;
And for the top, with elvish luck, we'll coax a star down from the skies.
But surely such a perfect tree, will take Mira long to find,
So while I wait for her return, I'll taste the spicy wine.
(Nonette drinks from a steaming mug of mulled wine. She gives a thumbs up. Delicious!)
The drink is brewing nicely, but I'm getting dirty looks,
For my uncle's in the kitchen grumbling loudly while he cooks.
Any other day ol' Matzo's face could make an onion cry,
But tonight, although he's moaning, there's a sparkle in his eye,
He's chopped and mixed and toiled all day, and put it in to bake,
But tonight he'll get to taste the food he worked so hard to make,
There's bangers, sprouts and parsnips, and roasted taters I have heard,
and cranberries, stuffing and chestnuts, and a big ol' roasted bird!
But it'll be a little while till the grub is ready to eat,
so I'll grab a mug of ale and to the fire I'll retreat.
(Nonette drinks deeply from a freshly drawn mug of pumpkin ale, and wobbles a bit.)
Our hole ish looking purty, everywhere are wreathes of candles,
Little Chaline's grinnin' wide as she puts stockings on the mantle,
She and all the other chilluns are now filled with bubbly joy,
Theysh all been talking day and night 'bout Father Yule's toys,
Chickweed's shtealing from the biscuits as she sets out Santa's lot,
Sherry, wine and brandy and a flagon full of scotch.
A fine Shire selection, I can't decide which one ish best...
Sho to Father Yule's health, I'll put the lot of 'em to the test!
(Nonette drinks.)
Theesh fire shure is burnin' now, and thish room is all a-spin,
I'll jush shepp outshide to get shom air before the fun beginnsh,
Jush shufty out into the night where powdersh fallin' fresh,
Nae more'n two schtep out th' door, I'm flat uppon me arsch,
I've losh me feskin' sherry glash, mush to me growin' woe,
An' I hope to the hevvins thish spreddin' wet ish jus' the feskin' sch-snow.
Wheatberry's out schoppin' logs, an' sees me bruise me flippin' pride,
An' Mira'sh brawt beck a bleedin' tree! They drag ush bowf inshide.
Foodsh reddy, treesh up an' theesh cannles shinnin brite,
Heppy Yoole ta all, and to all a gud ni.....
(Nonette nods off midsentence, and finishes her poem with a large snore.)
Zzzz......
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