I committed this random act of poetry for my Patreon subscribers. (They get an audio recording of it.) It may have come out a tad darker than I intended? Enjoy!
Who is Mrs. Claus?
We have heard of Santa Claus
Father Christmas, St. Nick
that Jolly Ole’ Elf
who brings toys to good children
(and we are all someone’s child)
that keeper of lists
Naughty and Nice
bang of a gavel sounds
Ho. Ho. Ho.
But who is Mrs. Claus?
We reckon she exists
cooking and cleaning for Santa
keeping the home fire lit
on that long winter’s night.
she manages the elves in their workshop
reader of letters
suggester of gifts.
like attracts like
(or is it opposites attract?)
And she is the voice of mercy
of one more warning to be good
listen to your parents
don’t tease your siblings
(or is it like attracts like?)
and she is prosecutor
making a case for each name
to be marked naughty
to leave switches or coal
or no gift at all for those
who stab friends
steal from neighbors
I have heard another tale
drinking brandy with Santa late one night
after his rounds were done
in the quiet moments between dark and dawn.
(beautiful soul that she is, my bonny Conny, he hastened to add)
was once a fury
a priestess of blind Justice
Inanna hanging from a meat hook
embodiment of angry pain seeking vengeance.
She takes the naughty list
gives warnings to those good of heart
who but strayed and erred
gives lumps of coal or switches to those
who need telling one too many times
a reminder of worse yet to come
if ways are not mended.
Then there are those
(he whispered so softly I almost did not hear)
whose nightmares she stalks.
Who do you think arranged visitors three to old Scrooge?
Did you think him the first
to behold such visions?
And those that don’t heed their dreams?
(I asked softly.)
(He drank deeply then answered with a tremble)
Those who turn away from redemption
in sullen silence or with a sneer?
Who think they’re untouchable by Consequence?
Those are snatched by Mrs. Claus
(or is it Mrs. Claws?)
with nails sharp as scythes
wraps them in dark tendrils
injects them with fangs
and transforms them into…
Did you ever wonder where elves came from?
analysts of your every deed and word
watchers of your every mouse click
keepers of your every secret
(Big Data hires them as consultants)
those procurers of toys?
I wonder what crimes Jolly Ole’ Saint Nick committed when young.
Or maybe opposites attract.
by Kimberley Long-Ewing
Copyright 2016, all rights reserved