A Christmas Writing prompt

If, as William Carlos Williams said, "a poem is a machine made of words," then why not take a moment and ticker around under the hood!  Try this for fun.  Choose a classic poem that you like, one that speaks to you and that you feel comfortable playing around with.  Then start changing the words to reconfigure (or rebuild) it into a poem about Christmas.  As you rewrite it, change as much or as little as you like. See what happens.  Perhaps you want to keep the initial words from each line, or just the rhyming words from the ends of each line.  When you finish, read aloud what you have written. Let the words echo in your ears (and in your kitchen or bedroom).  As you listen to it, listen to hear where it needs tuning up, where a word or a line is misfiring.  Ask the poem: what else do you need?  Modelling your poem on the structure, the framework, of a great poem, is a quick way to get yourself writing. And --in the end-- what you will have is an original Christmas poem to share with family and friends. It will make a delightful gift. Print it out and include it in your Christmas greetings, or with your annual holiday letter.  Here in my example, I use one of Emily Dickinson’s greatest (and most solemn) poems (on left) to help me craft a little bit of Christmas pondering (on right).  I am not sure it quite works yet, but I hope you get the idea…

Dickinson #320 There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes – Heavenly Hurt, it gives us – We can find no scar, But internal difference – Where the Meanings, are – None may teach it – Any – 'Tis the seal Despair – An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air – When it comes, the Landscape listens – Shadows – hold their breath – When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death –

Sutter There is a certain shift of mind December afternoons Oppresses us with joy And spritely holiday tunes No snow in Houston falling No chill in Houston’s air No happy family coming No feeling but despair And yet we find ourselves Wandering the malls Humming Santa’s coming Or whistling Deck the Halls And somehow all that emptiness That embittered every meeting Evaporates with a passing nod And a stranger’s Christmas greeting