Sometimes even the most legendary holiday curmudgeon needs a little sunshine.
This year, the Grinch has packed up his sour attitude, slung a beach bag over his green shoulder, and traded Mount Crumpit for Montego Bay. No roast beast. No Who pudding. No noisy carols at dawn.
Just waves. Rum punch. And a hammock swaying between two palm trees.
Here’s a festive sonnet imagining what happens when the meanest green of Christmas decides to chase a warmer kind of cheer…
🌴 “The Grinch Takes Christmas South” – A Sonnet
Upon a northern peak he used to brood,
With icy whispers curling through his cave;
But winter’s wrath had frozen up his mood –
He dreamed instead of some warm ocean wave.
So off he flew to shores of golden sand,
Where reggae drummed beneath the yuletide sun;
A mango daiquiri in his clawed hand,
He sighed, “At last… no Whos, no cheer… just fun.”
But as the tide rolled in with gentle grace,
A stranger’s laugh broke lightly on the breeze;
The Grinch felt warmth rise through his furred green face,
A softer thumping echo in his knees.
For Christmas joy – no matter where you roam –
Will find you, even far from Whoville’s home.