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My holiday gift to you

By December 13, 2008December 19th, 2008How To, News

Okay – I never usually do things like this on my blog, but I’m feeling very taken by the holiday spirit – and wildly grateful for all that YOU give me by reading this blog, commenting with your brilliant and strong thoughts, telling your friends & colleagues about Writing Roads and being part of my community.

So, I’d like to give you a gift, but only one of you (even though I appreciate you all equally). But, it wouldn’t be me if I made this really easy and un-fun. So here is your challenge and here are your steps to success:

  1. Write a poem.
  2. It has to rhyme (because I’m a huge fan of rhyming).
  3. And it has to be at least 2 lines long.
  4. It must be authentically YOU.
  5. And it has to be nice (and you’re all nice, so this shouldn’t be an issue)
  6. Flattery will probably get you everywhere.
  7. Leave it in the comments below.
  8. Get totally, blatantly judged by me and my posse (ie. Silas the Farting Dog who sits under my desk and loves me no matter what).
  9. Hope and pray that you win (and feel free to bribe the judge with cash – me, not Silas).

I will pick the winner on December 23rd and get your prizes to you in nowhere near enough time for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or the Winter Solstice.

What? Oh…you want to know what you’ll win? Is that all you can think about?

  • The grand prize is the best popcorn popper EVER in the ENTIRE world (because I love popcorn…does anyone see a theme here?)
  • A feature on this here blog with your winning poem and a singing of your praises (we can play around with this one depending on who you are, what you do and how this part of the prize will best suit you…). And tons of social media love on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn…wherever you like.
  • My love and affection.
  • AND…I’d be more than happy to offer more prizes (for funniest, most flattering, most female, most male – you name it…) and I’m positive I can get some (let me know if you want to offer your product, book or services) and I’ll feature them below as we go…
  • We have a new prize! The LOVELY Debra Snider has donated her novel, A Merger of Equals, for either the ‘Most Uppity’ or ‘Most Feminist’ poem. For more info on her book, go here.
  • And another! @TarotByArwen has offered us A Muse of Inspiration Tarot reading. This one will have to go to the ‘Most Spiritual’ entry, like fer sure.
  • My favorite cook in the world, Carol McManus, has donated another prize! Her extraordinary cookbook, Table Talk, features real food recipes, beautiful pics of Martha’s Vineyard and the inspiration to bring the family back to the table. (We cook from it alllll the time!) The poem that makes me the hungriest gets this prize…
  • J.Sewell Perkins is offering one 1/2 hour of coaching as a prize – either life or business coaching. JS is awesome – can’t say enough good about this one. So, I guess this prize goes to the poem that makes me think the writer needs help (LOL, just kidding…)
  • Take back an hour of your time! @TraceyTarrant is offering one hour of virtual assistant services.
  • Lanny McDowell, the phenom avian photographer who took my Twitter avatar pic!, has offered up one of his stunning prints! This is a shot of a Red Phalarope driven onshore from its offshore northern migration route by persistent strong easterly winds.  Shot taken near Sengecontacket Pond, Martha’s Vineyard. Print image would measure 10″h X 15″w on fine art paper 13″ X 19″.
  • Jessica Smith, of Jessica Knows, Wishpot, MomForce and a zillion other places, is offering up a free admission to her Inner Circle (4 1-hour small group sessions) for the best poem about MomForce!!! (value = priceless)
  • This next prize is for the poem that does the best job of ‘counting blessings.’ Cindy Hartman‘s company, Hartman Inventory, provides a service documenting personal property for businesses and residences, mainly for disaster preparedness (knowing what you own helps you maximize an insurance claim; without an inventory, most recover between 30%-50% of what they lost). Other reasons for an inventory are estate planning, estate settlement, divorce and pre-nup agreements, moving, storage, business disolution/sale/purchase.  She’s offering a consultation explaining why an inventory is needed (not enough people realize how important this info is until it’s too late), and then providing the know-how so they can compile their own inventory.

GOOD LUCK…I’m breathless with anticipation.

Join the discussion 55 Comments

  • Okay, I’ll be the first. This meter was borrowed to remind me the names of my CalligraphyPets

    Originally, it begins with CalligraphyCats V1: Bacchus & the Ball of Yarn, then continues:

    and Lay
    and Runneth Away

    CCV2: Eros & the Empty Bowl, then:
    and Play;
    and Walketh Away

    Not done yet! We’ve got dogs, too!
    and Shake!

    Happy Holidays!

  • Ode To A Writing Road

    Writing Roads is a very nice blog;

    That’s written between the farts of a dog;

    This blog carries Alltop’s seal of approval;

    And needs to invest in some fart stink removal.

  • It’s the holidays on the East Coast,
    We’re doing what we love the Most,
    Spending time with our fam,
    And dreaming of ham (ok bacon, really),
    Then raising our glasses to toast.

    Happy Holidays!

  • Susan Gibbs says:

    I don’t usually write poetry but Julie has made me popcorn in the world’s best popper ever and I really want one.

    One chicken, two ducks.
    Two quack, one clucks.

  • Lanny says:

    The air is ringing with holiday cheer
    As Christmas Eve is nearer than near.
    For all of this joy we feel we’re beholden,
    With grateful whispers that Silas is golden.

  • Debra Snider says:

    I sometimes wonder
    When readers seem few
    If I’m making a blunder
    By offering my view.

    But then I discover
    In places like Twitter
    Smart readers still hover
    And I’m no longer bitter.

    Good wishes to you all
    At Writing Roads and friends
    I hope you’re not appall(ed)
    As this bumpy ode ends.

  • Liz Strauss says:

    Ah a change to write
    a line, a word, thought,
    to pensively pack what ought
    to be hidden or beridden
    without fashion or compassion
    in the dark of night.

    I admit it. I prefer poems.
    That go off own their own
    Without taking time for a single rhyme.

    Then “pop” surpise you with a feeling of a champagne cork.

  • Ari Herzog says:

    “Let us march!” yelled Demosthenes’ tribe,
    explained Adlai Stevenson about the Camelot throne.
    Fast forward to today and Barack Obama stands supreme,
    the voice of grassroots and change and nary a moan.

    Obama is a poet, as I blogged about before.
    He’s ready to command victories both home and afar.
    He’s ready to extend the throne from Camelot to now.
    Massholes will be happy, including magical Teri Garr.

    But enough of politics and celebrities and badly-rhymed words.
    Let’s turn to the Vineyard, named after a mysterious Marthaaaa.
    Where Julie Roads reads this poem, and Silas barks to beat.
    Where Julie Roads reads this poem, and Silas farts to UGHHHH!

  • --Deb says:

    (Man, how am I going to compete?)

    Let me knit you a poem
    To go with the tome
    Of emails all bound in a skin.

    Because wordy I get
    (Oft because of my pet)
    And can’t resist my word putting in.

  • Joan says:

    Everyone knows,
    Who reads Writing Roads,
    That Julie’s so fine,
    That nary a line,
    Isn’t amazing,
    And I’m not just praising.

    I wish I could be Julie for a day,
    If I were here’s what I’d say,
    Hooray for me,
    Because you see,
    I’m me,
    And I live on MV.

  • Adina Genn says:

    We made popcorn today
    in a pan in good cheer
    but a new popper would way
    help us start the new year.

  • Sitting there with her reflection in his eyes,
    Holding on to time and forbidden lies,
    Present in hand yet holding back,
    The ring, the promise, from the bottom of the stack,
    Christmas morning is finally here,
    Will he ask her or be held back by fear?
    Hold back and walk away,
    Or marry her and “come what may”…

  • Bill Kennedy says:

    Funny you should do this contest in the year I didn’t write a Christmas poem! Oh well, here’s one I wrote for a Christmas play about a family where the father has to take a last minute flight to LA to help a client and the mother has to go help her father, who has fallen and had to go to hospital, leaving their teenaged children to start the preparations for Christmas.

    The Sign of Christmas

    Where’s the sign of Christmas, beneath the tinsel stars?
    Stores all filled with merchandise, radio blaring noise.
    People rushing blindly, their faces hard as stone.
    Where’s the sign of Christmas? I feel all alone.

    Helping a friend bake cookies, snowballs in the street,
    Skating on the millpond, chocolate hot and sweet.
    Serving at the food bank, a smile for people there
    Warming the cold of winter, showing them you care.

    In my mother’s kitchen, spices, flour and yeast,
    Tradition on tradition, we prepare the family feast.
    Stuffing made by Grandmother, Aunt Jessie’s special sauce,
    Loving care for each detail, no precious memory lost.

    Quiet carols at midnight, thoughts for human kind,
    A baby and a manger, from heaven to earth a sign.
    I sing among the candles. I’ve known from the start.
    Where’s the sign of Christmas? It’s always in my heart.

    In researching the play I asked a lot of people what was special for them about Christmas. A number of women talked about the traditions of Christmas in a way I hadn’t thought about. They said that preparing the recipes of their grandmothers, aunts and relatives were a way of honouring their memory, an active way of keeping that memory alive.

    Merry Christmas, Julie!

  • kathryn says:

    I love popcorn hanging on the tree,
    in the bowl, smothered with butter; how lovely

  • Ok…

    I once knew a gal that loved butter
    On just ’bout anything she would smother
    she’d eat it on toast
    with popcorn the most
    Though it dripped off her chin we still loved ‘er!

    HaaHaa hows that for rhyming chicky!

  • Tamara says:

    I was thinking about when we moved to Hawaii how everyone wanted to visit. Now we are back on the mainland for almost a year and we have had one visitor so far.

    This is a map to where we live
    just go to the docks and get on a ship,
    traverse the pacific vast and wide
    but don’t go clear to the other side.
    Stop halfway at an island chain
    you will recognize it -Hawaii’s the name.
    Maui is the island to be exact
    the most beautiful island as a matter of fact!

    Friends? In California we didn’t have any.
    How did we suddenly get so many?
    Our calendar is booked; our guest room is full.
    Relatives we don’t know lounge by the pool.
    Our cupboards gone bare; our wine stock depleted.
    Someone said more beer is now needed.
    We moved to Hawaii to get away from it all,
    but with so many visitors coming to call,
    guess we’ll have to move further away
    how ’bout Australia; what do you say?

  • TarotByArwen says:

    Shall I string a line of words for you?
    Copy my heart onto paper for you?
    For popcorn so sweet and salty and good
    I might wish that I might really could
    But I just suck at rhyming poetry.

    hee I will share a recent one with you, but I just don’t rhyme worth a damn so this is not a rhyming one.

    Aubergine Surprise

    Oh yes I’ve always known you see
    That the color that would liberate me
    Would be lush deep pure aubergine
    Wrapping me up all velvety soft
    I share this always present hope
    So more can learn my view of life
    The suprise though the surprise for me?
    The one that carried me away to this?

    That there was aubergine in your touch
    That the voice of this tall stranger could
    Know that what I needed this grey day
    Would be lush deep pure aubergine

    Stephanie Arwen Lynch

    Because that one is a happy one. :) Happy holidays, dear!

  • Okay, I didn’t have much time to spend on it, but I wanted to play…

    I started a journey long go, along a writing road,
    In a bag I packed my hopes and dreams,
    And a magic word or two, it seems,
    To help me bear the load.

    I’ve followed that road through space and time wherever it might lead,
    I’ve sprinkled my trail with stories and rhyme,
    And stopped to share from time to time,
    With others of my creed.

    And now the world has grown quite small, our roads have all converged
    In blogs and twitter, on Facebook too,
    Links that stretch from me, to you,
    Our writing roads have merged.

    So in this time of holidays, I wish you happiness
    To thank you, each and every one,
    Before another year is done,
    In our meetings, I feel blessed.

  • Okay, because it’s you… Hm. Off the cuff I go.

    I cannot imagine anything more lovely
    than the sight of my beloved family
    cuddled up against the cold
    listening patiently as the story is told
    Of Christmas eve & a Man with a sleigh
    who brings children joy every Christmas day.

    Right then – that’s what you get when I’ve had no sleep! Off to retweet it tho! :)

  • Ron Miller says:

    Life is rich or so they say
    But it can all disappear
    On a grey dreary day
    So hold on tightly to what you hold dear
    Take nothing for granted
    Make your feeling so clear

    Time passes so swiftly
    Marches right by
    So treasure each moment, every kiss, every sigh
    And remember fine people to hug those you hold dear
    And always, yes always, make your feeling so clear

    It’s easy to stress at this time of year
    Over things that don’t matter
    And forget that you care
    But remember my friends to hug those you hold dear
    And always, yes always, make your feelings so clear

    Happy holidays everyone, whatever you celebrate and enjoy your loved ones.

    Ron Miller

  • A blue sky, a sunny day
    I’m wishing the heck that it was May.
    The winter comes the same time every year
    So enjoy food, family, love with great cheer.
    Christmas, Santa, bells, trees and lights
    Give me joy on frigid winter nights.
    So even though the weather outside is cold
    Love and gratitude in my heart I hold.

  • Imagine for a moment as you look upon the sun’s rays
    the wonders of heaven raining on you in so many ways.

    Blessings abound in here and the now
    Present and clear, never wondering how.

    While those around us may moan and complain
    our souls continue to praise without the doubt and stain.

    Making this world a better place to live
    by all that we say and all that we give.

    Creators in sync with our maker and king
    Filled with gratitude and love forever we sing.

  • Once upon a long, long time
    @WritingRoads asked us to rhyme.

    This challenge kept me on my toes
    For I prefer to write in prose.

    And now I’ll end this little ditty
    Because I fear it sounds quite sh****.

    Happy Holidays! All the best in 2009!
    Your Twitter friend,
    Robin (aka @RobinBernstein)

  • Pete Moring says:

    I’m a bit too lazy to write a new one, so I thought I’d post a n Oldie-Goldie of mine from years ago. Seems quite fitting here really :-)

    The Light Of Life.

    If a poet holds the light of life,
    and shines it all around.
    Who lights the light
    that burns so bright,
    and always lets them down.

    It’s said that they who hold the light,
    will have their hands burned raw.
    That when they hold the light aloft,
    they will be kicked down to the floor.

    The poets must be foolish,
    for they have been advised
    of the dangers that they face,
    as they put their thoughts to rhyme.

    Would you hold that light so bright?
    Could you take the pain?
    Could you tolerate the suffering,
    ridicule and shame?

    Could you lay your life out bare,
    and let the vultures take their share?
    Could you cut your soul right open,
    to let all of mankind stare?

    When the guilt of all our brothers,
    finds a niche inside your mind.
    Will you burn it out with the light of life?
    Or cut it out, with a red hot knife?

    Maybe you’ll just carry on
    with the life you call your own.
    Let the poet hold the light of life.
    As the way, they have been shown.

    Let them have their hands burned raw.
    Let them be washed up on the shore.
    Let their body be cut for every sin.
    Then why not rub the salt right in.

    The poets there to be abused.
    For all the time they hold the light,
    for all of us, who are confused.

    Pete Moring.

  • Christmas is You and Me

    I don’t need snow for Christmas
    A rainy day is fine
    I don’t need sleighbells or carols
    Or turkey dinner and wine
    A tree all trimmed is lovely
    But if it’s not done in time
    I won’t be unhappy at Christmas
    As long as I know you’re mine.

    I’ve had Christmas in the country
    And under city lights
    I’ve had snow and ice, a fireplace
    Or tropical starry nights
    It’s not the time or place
    Or the tinsel shining bright
    It’s only Christmas in my heart
    When you are in my sight.

    Christmas isn’t presents
    Waiting under a tree
    It’s not snow or holly
    and mistletoe
    It’s not carols playing
    Wherever I go,
    Christmas is only Christmas
    Whenever there’s you and me

  • Turtle says:

    If only i had a barn
    sitting amongst the snow to store my yarn.
    In it could also be sheep,
    Bleeting…..and other peeps,
    From chicks laying eggs.

    Cosmic full moons,
    Knitting needles flying till dawn,
    Listening to tunes,
    while white blankets the lawn.

    This is my dream.
    Hippie dippy crunchy granola earth muffin girl
    Living lean, dipped in heavy cream.

  • Margaret Denny says:

    I got here from a Tweet by TarotbyArwen, and spent some time reading a few pages of your blog. I wish I’d known about babywearing 14 years ago — we had a carrier that allowed her to face forward, but I didn’t know about slings and the like.

    Reading this contest makes me muse,
    What kind of popcorn popper should I use?

    Julie, I beg, when the contest is done,
    Please tell us the brand of the utensil won?

  • OK-you didnt say it had to be a Christmas poem and it seems like thats what everyone else has written so well, I decided to be different.
    Here is one me and my 2 yo lil princess wrote. Its about a frog that she found on the porch.

    Shhh Mommy, Shhh!
    Don’t tell “the boy”
    I found me sumfin.
    No, it’s not a toy.
    It’s a wittle froggie…see Mommy, see!
    It sleeps right here.
    Not in a tree.
    I not gonna touch it Mommy
    I want it to stay.
    Shhh Mommy, Shhh!
    Mommy lets go away.

    Picture here:

    ~Spoiled Mommy


    She says, “Now don’t get pist,
    but you’ll be put on a list,
    or taken away in the night.
    Your head is just not right!”

    There is a laugh, then a sigh,
    and she asks the obvious “Why?”
    I can offer no more than a stare
    when asked, “What goes on up there?”

    We both know my head’s not right,
    It’s apparent in the letters I write.
    But I never claimed to have class,
    I’ve only ever claimed to be a jackass.


  • You say you’re a rhyming fool,
    but Julie, no, you’re a jewel.

    Rhyming is fun,
    butter, anyone…?

    With the Chicago Manual of Style in one hand, and Merriam Webster’s in the other,
    from the land of Martha’s Vineyard you wield words like no other.

    A poet I am not,
    but thought I’d give it a shot.

    It’s Monday morning, not fully awake,
    I’m lost in Twitter land, taking a break.

    Work is piling up, losing time I fear,
    dreaming of Santa, and his flying reindeer.

    But alas I must go,
    so with a Merry ho, ho, ho …

    Holiday cheers to you,
    Writing Roads – Success,
    and may tooting Silas,
    enjoy this contest!

  • Anne Mayhew says:

    Nothing could be fitter
    than a dog who is a sitter
    even if he is the works worst farter
    life without him would be tarter

    to silas
    who give your blog stylus

    (ok sucking up to silas on this one)

  • Ok, here goes…

    Julie you put me on the spot
    Now I might forget a dot
    while I am writing this little ditty
    and thinking it would be a pity
    I am eating my a bowl of chili
    and I am being a bit silly
    Julie you put me on the spot
    and I did forget the dot

    How’s that? I hope you enjoyed it.

  • Gwen Bell says:

    Ho ho ho

    She’s got a hot bod
    But this Christmas is sucking
    For a woman named Mad

    On a cold winter’s night
    She’s given up without fight

    And with 50 mil she is parted.

  • Annette Fix says:

    I’d love to participate! But sadly, I’m poetically challenged. =(

    Your dog could probably fart a rhyme better than I could write one.

  • Julie I love this blog and I’m happy to play along, although don’t know if I offer the other poets much competition! :)

    When everyone has gone to bed
    Before I rest my weary head
    I always say a little prayer
    To the man who could be Heaven’s Mayor

    This guy you see
    Loved a good party
    But he knew how to work
    And wasn’t a jerk

    He was playful, and artistic,
    He was smart and athletic.
    He was a husband, a father
    a grandpa, and rather

    too good for this world.

    I will always miss him.
    My Dad.

  • This is a little ditty I give my clients to say, sing or shout to the mountain tops when they doubt, for even a moment, that they can have the life of which they’ve always dreamed.

    Yes I can!
    I can do it now!
    Knowing I can,
    I’ll figure out how!

  • woke up sweating from the heat of forgetting
    that one thing to do which would bring me the bling

    so up I leapt, full of vinegar and direct
    to the keyboard well trod with divining rod

    i grazed twitter like a goat wearing glitter
    plaxo, biznik, facebook loaded with the right hook

    you know the thing? i didn’t get a ring or any bling
    but the new-ideas freshness got me out of my anxiousness

    no matter what you are seeking, take a moment and do some peeking
    at those in your fringe who can give your fear a singe!

  • Write a poem she says,
    It has to rhyme.
    It has to be at least 2 lines
    In my office by my feet,
    Is my dog Honey,
    who does NOT smell sweet.
    It’s hard to focus, and stay positive
    When you work in the fog
    Of a farting dog.
    But I laugh at my Sis when
    She plugs her nose
    It tickles me right to my toes
    I smile and grin and get to work
    Wearing a gas mask to save me
    From the fog
    Of Honey the farting dog.

  • Anne says:

    Alright, I will try, but I am certainly not a poet.

    I am not a poet
    And I do know it.
    But I am writing for you.
    I’ll give it a shot.
    Hope you like it a lot.
    Silas needs something to do.

    I am not sure this qualifies as nice, but you can’t expect me to be nice and try to rhyme at the same time.

    Happy Holidays!

  • Took a while, but a poem finally popped in…

    I want you to write
    with joy and with ease
    stop beating yourself up
    and have some fun… Please!

    No veins must be punctured
    just open your heart
    for writing is truly
    a passionate art.

  • Sid Parham says:

    The Blogiad

    A bald old guy full o’ fear
    Wandered into the blogosphere.
    It seemed a dark and fearsome place
    Where his typ:/ng skills would bring disgrace
    To get readers he knew he could not botch
    The Social Media, which he hoped was scotch.
    He was told to seek an Avatar
    Does Krishna pose as BIKERBAR?
    In this wild world each rogue an” wit
    Tries to write a CHRISBROGAN twit.
    If one’s brand needs a sanitizer
    He’s sent to something called the SCROBILIZER.
    All wish to succeed, each man or mouse,
    They follow the teaching of one LIZSTRAUSS.
    Far away on some Australian rock
    Sits a lost musician GGW_BACH.
    Inspiration comes not from Obama,
    Wild animals wrote as if to bust a gut.
    Best of all, a guinea pig named for a nut.
    If one’s shadow self expresses a need,
    Go talk of Jung with dear CCSEED.
    This vast new world escapes description
    And Twittering is my new addiction.
    Followers, are you insulted or pleased
    To be excluded in rhymes like these?
    In this cachaphony of many voices
    How can we make intelligent choices?
    Who has a mind so clear or thoughts so sweet
    That he can tell the twitter from the Tweet?

  • Tourist on the Writing Roads
    such beautiful words we utter
    of puppies, and friends
    our writer’s block ends
    with mouthfuls of popcorn with butter.

    (short and sweet.)

  • Carol says:

    I think that I shall never see
    A contest that’s so meant for me
    The popcorn popper must be mine!
    To win the prize would be divine!

    Let Silas pick the winning name
    I think that he’d enjoy the game!
    So come on Julie, make my day
    Send those prizes right my way!

  • Sherry Gibbs says:

    I love to read blogs, and yours is one of the best,
    You can find me here at 3am when I am unable to need rest,

    I like reading other’s views,
    so I can step into someone else’s shoes.

    I suck at poetry but your contest is so cool,
    that I would walk a mile to enter while pulling a mule.

    Man okay that is bad.

  • Ann Davis says:

    It’ a rain-soaked day
    the sky is dull gray
    the wind is blowing like crazy

    I’ve so much to do
    December TWO-TWO ?
    But instead I’ve been feelin’ so lazy

    On to Facebook I went
    time not always well-spent
    and discovered Ms. Julie’s big contest

    Could I write a poem
    from my bed here at home
    to be judged not the best, but the bestest?

    Christmas is coming (that’s what we celebrate)
    It’s holiday time – Now I’m feeling first rate!

    I suddenly want to get out of my shell
    Sing some songs! Light the tree! Deck the halls! Ring the bells!

    For this is a time of the joyous of seasons
    Of mem’ries, tradition, and fun for all reasons

    So thank you Ms. Roads for that gauntlet you threw
    Me and this bad mood, we’re finished! We’re through!

    (I always suspected how healing was writing
    but this proves it is true. How first-rate! How exciting!)

    I close with a quick wish for merry to you
    and your readers and writers and family, too.

    May we all give great thanks for our blessings this year,
    and glad tidings be yours and all those you hold dear!

  • Ramona_W says:

    The Moving Finger Writes

    And, having writ,
    Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
    Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
    Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
    He kept the risque card; I could not tell you why;
    But, once again, the lovely pink and white bouquet is mine.
    My fate is truly written by the moving finger, I believe.
    Sadly, the transcription’s in Farsi: not a language I can read.

  • Deb says:

    In Celebration of MomForce, of Course!

    No power is greater than a mother’s love
    Backed by the strength of her wisdom and hknowing
    Mothers are a fierce and peerless force
    A movement that is still growing

    Your ad campaign needs Word-of-Mouth?
    Moms make that happen – fast!
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