Month: December 2006

G K Chesterton

The House of Christmas There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeless All men are at home. The crazy stable close at hand, With shaking timber and shifting sand, Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand Than the square stones of Rome. For men are homesick in their homes, And strangers under the sun, And they lay on their heads in a foreign land Whenever the day is done. Here we have battle and blazing eyes, And chance and honour and high surprise, But our homes are under miraculous skies Where the yule tale was begun. A Child in a foul stable, Where the beasts feed and foam; Only where He was homeless Are you and I at home; We have hands that fashion and heads that know, But our hearts we lost – how long ago! In a place no chart nor ship can show Under the sky’s dome. This world is wild as an old wives’ tale, And strange the plain things are, The earth is enough and the air is enough For our wonder and our war; But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings And our peace is put in impossible things Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings Round an incredible star. To an open house in the evening Home shall men come, To an older place than Eden And a taller town than Rome. To the end of the way of the wandering star, To the things that cannot be and that are, To the place where God was homeless And all men are at home.…

Ogden Nash

The Hippopotamus Behold the hippopotamus! We laugh at how he looks to us, And yet in moments dank and grim, I wonder how we look to him. Peace, peace, thou hippopotamus! We really look all right to us, As you no doubt delight the eye Of other hippopotami.…

David Ogilvy

When someone is made the head of an office in the Ogilvy & Mather chain, I send him a Matrioshka doll from Gorky. If he has the curiosity to open it, and keep opening it until he comes to the inside of the smallest doll, he finds this message: If each of us hires people who are smaller than we are, we shall become a company of dwarfs. But if each of us hires people who are bigger than we are, we shall become a company of giants.…

Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening Whose woods these are I think I know, His house is in the village though. He will not see me stopping here, To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer, To stop without a farmhouse near, Between the woods and frozen lake, The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake, To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep, Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.…

Roger McGough

A Dada Christmas Catalogue A chocolate comb A can of worms opener A non-stick frying pan Two sticky frying pans A book end Abrasive partridges An inflatable fridge Nervous door handles A mobile phone booth An overnight tea-bag Day-glo tippex Underwater ash-tray 15 amp bath plug Pair of socks. Identical but for the colour Box of Tunisian (past their sell-by) dates See-through elastoplasts Nasal floss (unwaxed) A canteen of magnetic cutlery A hip joint A groovy cartiledge Three way mirror Not a pipe…

Kit Wright

Red Boots On Way down Geneva All along Vine, Deeper than the snowdrift Love’s eyes shine: Mary Lou’s walking In the winter time. She’s got Red boots on, she’s got red boots on, Kicking up winter Till the winter’s gone. So Go by Ontario, Look down Main, If you can’t find Mary Lou. Come back again: Sweet light burning in winter’s flame. She’s got Snow in her eyes, got a tingle in her toes and new red boots on wherever she goes. So All around Lake Street, Up by St. Paul, Quicker than the white wind Love takes all: Mary Lou’s walking In the big snow fall. She’s got Red boots on, she’s got red boots on, Kicking up winter Till the winter’s gone.…

George Herbert

The Quiddity My God, a verse is not a crown, No point of honour, or gay suit, No hawk, or banquet, or renown, Nor a good sword, nor yet a lute. It cannot vault, or dance, or play ; It never was in France or Spain ; Nor can it entertain the day With a great stable or domain. It is no office, art, or news ; Nor the Exchange, or busy Hall : But it is that which, while I use, I am with Thee : and Most take all.…

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