After I learned that Elizabeth had rejected the word “dismemberment” from this year’s randomly generated word list for the holiday story, I was unable to get it out of my mind. Twice I started a new story. One I came close to finishing. And both were about a wife who dismembered her husband and tossed his limbs down the well.
Not exactly the happy holiday ending we were going for.
In despair, I rooted through my past and discovered this holiday poem cribbage from 2014. I hope you’ve forgotten it! It’s an homage, if you can call it that, to Pride and Prejudice and the Bennett family. Dismembering, you’ll be happy to know, plays no part in this story.
Twas daybreak on Christmas, and all through the hall
All the servants were stirring, for tonight was the ball.
The Yule log was laid and the mistletoe hung,
In hopes that Sir Darcy’s fling would be flung.
Miss Lizzie still nestled all snug in her bed,
While nightmares of family danced in her head.
But Mary and Kitty, and Lydia, too,
Argued at breakfast about whom Darcy would woo.
Then out in the parlor there rose such a clatter
Jane sprang from the table to see to the matter.
Maids had dropped glasses, which smashed on the floor
The butler was livid and gave them what-for.
The cook was still worried her sauce wasn’t right
While Pa hit his sauce and got pretty tight.
The daughters decided to primp the whole day
When Mama’s hysterics just drove them away.
Finally—at long last!—the party time neared,
And moonbeams glowed down as the bad weather cleared.
Arriving by carriage the revelers came,
And the butler emerged to call them by name.
Here’s Darcy and Collins,
And Bingley among us!
And Wickham’s dismounting
To give us comeuppance!
To Lucas goes Collins
And Jane’s Bingley’s bride!
But Lizzie dumped Darcy
Because of his pride.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a pain in the heinie
Her ego is huge and her modesty, tiny
Here’s Caroline Bingley, the Gardiners, too
Georgiana is present to beef up the stew.
Mr. Bennet, the host, a right cheerful old squire,
Greeted each guest as he stood by the fire.
“I’m happy to see you, please drink and be jolly!”
So guests then embarked on all kinds of folly.
And then, in a twinkling, the music commenced
And Lizzie sat down, leaving Darcy incensed.
Kitty and Lydia flirted like mad
And Wickham decided to act like a cad.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses from way too much sherry.
He spoke of his love, he said, “Come and be mine.”
And Lydia believed him, that smooth-talking swine.
They flew off to Derbyshire, where they could be wed
But Darcy pursued them, his heart full of dread.
He promised his Lizzie he’d bring back the villain
But said not a word about blood he’d be spillin’.
Lizzie stayed up like a ghost the whole night
Till Darcy returned at dawn’s early light.
“They’re married,” he told her, “and all will be well.”
“My hero,” she said. He said, “My precious belle.”
He then took her hand and got down on his knee,
“I was stupid and wrong,” he said. “Please marry me.
I thought I was wise, but it’s you I admire.
So if you can love me, let’s tell your good sire.”
Lizzie said yes with a fervor so fine.
“I love you, I do, please say you’ll be mine.
I’ll marry you now and love you forever
And stand by your side through every endeavor.”
And so our tale ends with a happy e’er after
And hearts full of love and plenty of laughter.
For you, my dear readers, I wish much the same,
But for poor stabs at poetry, I take all the blame.
How fun, Kay. And sorry about that whole “dismemberment” thing.
I was overly confident that I could work it in! I kept thinking “the child ate all the cookies, dismembering the gingerbread man with particular relish,” and then…that wife entered the picture, mad as a hornet, and the rest…downhill from there. And of course, I spent so much time trying to make it work, I didn’t have time to do something else. I updated this poem a bit, changing a couple of awkward stanzas that I needed at the time to fit in the random words, so it’s a bit smoother in a couple of places now. Thanks for being so kind about my going so far off-topic!
Well now I’m curious about that wife. 🙂
I love it!
Merry Christmas. And I’d like to read the dismembered one (or two). Maybe save them for a Halloween or a Friday the 13th post.
Oh, good idea! I’ll definitely do that. They’d be much more fitting for a more bloodthirsty holiday. 🙂
Excellent fun! Merry Christmas to Eight Ladies Writing and here’s to a productive and successful, vaccine-filled 2021! Sara
Thank you, Sara! Merry Christmas to you, too—and onward to 2021!
I have been *longing* to watch the BBC Pride and Prejudice again. I was going to watch it in November as a comfort watch, but just wound up out of time, out of schedule. This makes me want to place it first in the cue for the New Year. I’ve got so much cleaning to do until then . . . .
And, yes, Michille has a great idea. But did you know there are no Friday the 13ths in 2021 until August? (Unless I missed one.) We have to figure out an appropriate reason to post murderous stories, LOL. Can’t wait eight months until August!
This is wonderful. It’s all I can do to hit all the words, never mind trying to rhyme.
Christmas Eve plus Darcy and Lizzie! Perfect! So glad you decided to revisit this 🙂
And I’ll add another vote for the tale of darkness and dismemberment next year, sooner rather than later. I’m sure we can find an excuse!