Friday, December 13, 2002

A Seasonal Poem


Our stockings are hung
from the mantle with care,
the fragrance of gingerbread
hangs in the air.

Packages are under
our well lit tree,
outside the air is balmy
by many a degree.

The children are nestled
with colds in their heads,
when the antibiotics kick in
we'll have less to dread.

Dad with bronchitis,
and Mom's coughing too,
we've been diagnosed properly,
this isn't a flu.

Out in the hen house
there arose such a clatter,
I slumped off the sofa
to see what was the matter.

Over to the closet
to search for some shoes,
with all that is in there,
no wonder there is stuff we lose.

The sun on the crest
of the new breaking day,
gave the luster of a heat wave
on the bales of hay.

When what to my wondering eyes
should appear
but three hungry chickens,
and rabbits in the rear.

With sharp little beaks
and skinny yellow legs,
they eat and they walk
and they lay colored eggs.

More rapid than typists
those chickens can peck,
and they have to look up,
for food to go down their neck.

And then in a twinkling
I heard from our home
the incessant ringing
of my cellular phone.

As I stepped in the house,
to answer the call,
Max reached for the cookies
and we saw them all fall.

He was dressed in pajamas
from his feet to his head,
he pulled and he tugged
and he begged to be fed.

We are all out of juice,
there's no bread for their bellies,
looks like tortillas
all smothered with jellies.

And William and Alex,
so lively and quick
are writing their Christmas lists,
though they are sick.

I grumbled and groaned
as I started to clean,
frankly, for dusting and scrubbing
I am not very keen.

There is too much to do
and errands to run
I pause to remember,
"This is meant to be fun."

We have so much
for to be grateful.
I hug my dear boys
and feel truly thankful.

So, grabbing a tissue
and blowing my nose
a renewed sense of spirit
in me arose.

Away to the post office,
we flew in our Chevy,
this is sure to cost plenty,
these gifts are quite heavy.

I'll read to the children,
make sure they are fed,
give them decongestant
and tuck them in bed.

When my husband comes home,
I will kiss him and shout,
"Thank you God,
for Mom's Night Out!"

1 comment:

Maria said...

Mommy, I love this! <3 I decided to look back at some of your older posts. It's really fun. :)