Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  OldSite Link 22-November 10:37:34 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Old Site Post 2001
· Old Site Pre 2001
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account
· Members Journals
· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
· Bubble Puzzle
· ConnectN
· Cross Word
· Cross Word Easy
· Drag Puzzle
· Word Hunt
 Reference
· Dictionary
· Dictionary (Rhyming)
· Site Updates
· Content
· Special Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
· Donations
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

'Twas The Night Before Football

Contributed by CalebBoone on Monday, 6th February 2012 @ 05:30:42 AM in AEST
Topic: HumorPoetry



'Twas The Night Before Touchdown

A Pigskin Pork-Rind!
By Caleb Boone

'Twas the night before kickoff, and through the whole town,
No one practiced Rachmaninoff: everyone acted like clowns.

Cupcakes, Jello and mincemeat pie;
Pizza, ice cream, any thing you can fry.

Decorated like footballs on every store shelf,
Baked by Kroger and Callender: not Santa's elf.

The fans lay asleep on their TV couches,
With visions of winning: not quitters, not grouches.

Playoff jerseys were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Football Claus soon would be there.

John Madden in his kerchief; Dick Butkus in his cap,
Had just settled down for a chili-bowl nap.

When out in the rumpus-room there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their couch-potatoes to see what was the matter.

They ran to the door and knew who it was:
A red-and-white halfback named Football Claus!

He came down the chimney to bring them good news,
Apple cider, plum pudding, roast carrots and stews.

He had flown with his reindeer in the star-filled sky,
They told him they wished for a score very high.

He looked like a peddler opening his pack,
He reached in and pulled out two quarter-backs!

One each for the favorite and the underdog,
From the top of the shelf: not under a log.

He said: "Back a winner! Not a horse named Nellie!"
And his stomach jiggled like a bowl-full of jelly.

A Meerschaum pipe he held tight in his teeth,
While he told them game secrets beyond their belief.

He spoke of double-overtime, conversions and kicks,
Last-minute replacements, and tight-end tricks.

They were surely astounded by his revelations,
They dreamt of championship fame among nations.

The moon on the crest of the new-fallen snow,
Looked like a round pie-crust or dinner-roll dough.

After all that he told them about the Big Game,
They still could not tell who would win and gain fame.

So they asked him: "Dear Santa, please tell us who'll win!"
But he spoke not a word, only stroking his chin.

He called to his reindeer to pull his sleigh home,
To the North Pole, not to the Astro-Dome.

Faster than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

"On, Deion! On, Tom! On, Vince, Mark and Sergio!
On, Eli! On, Victor! On, Hakeem and Mario!"

"To the top of the stadium, to the top of the wall!
Now touchdown! Now pass and dash away all!"

And I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight:
"Put on your cleats: you're in for a fight!"

Sunday, February 5, 2012
Hays, Kansas




Copyright © CalebBoone ... [ 2012-02-06 05:30:42]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.
Re: 'Twas The Night Before Football (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 12th February 2012 @ 01:54:10 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
lol, cute.


Re: 'Twas The Night Before Football (User Rating: 1 )
by CARAAAAA on Wednesday, 7th March 2012 @ 12:44:21 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
cute




While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com