Twas the night before Christmas: a cautionary tale..

December 22, 2012 at 11:11 pm Leave a comment

Sitting, knitting, mind a-flitting,
from my pen this tripped unwitting.
Apologies to C.C. Moore,
and all the rest who’ve gone before.

Beware all ye who read my rhyme,
lest it steal your mind and time.
Rhyme’s contagious, so deduce –
you too could sound like Mr Seuss.

Twas the night before Christmas and all over the house
was a flurry of paper, and bustle of spouse,
in the wake of a mother who rushed fro and to
as I tried to remember “Which gift for who?
I must name them right or all hell will ensue.
For the youngest child was it the red train or blue?”

Up the dark hallway I quietly slunk
to place at the feet of the kids in their bunk,
one offering each in hopes to delay
the horribly premature start of the day,
for an hour at least by delivery ‘from sleigh’.
In bed till 5.30, if only they’d stay!

On their bedside table was a drink and a treat
that the children had left there for Santa to eat.
And for the reindeer, in a dish by the door,
they’d carefully chopped carrot, parsley and more,
put there by the eldest child, who had insisted
that if they were eaten, He really existed!

Now back to the lounge and the mound there accrued
of presents and paper, bright and many-hued,
for all of the family, their gifts from Santa.
“And for mother-in-law, I must wrap the planter
with paper the kids made, that’s sure to enchant her,”
under my breath, to myself did I banter.

And as the pile shrank, so the night passed,
with paper, tape, scissors, working ever so fast
till job was done and gifts heaped at last,
under the tree. The pile it was vast.
The tree itself was almost surpassed.
(The original St Nick would have been quite aghast.)

Weary and bleary I trudged up the hall
reviewing my tasks, “Have I done them all?”
As my head touched the pillow, with eyes closing fast –
“I’ve forgotten to eat up the reindeer’s repast!”
So I crept back and ate it. Gingerbread, yummy!
As I ate the last mouthful, a small voice said “Mummy!”
in a horrified tone, more tragic than funny,
Why are you putting Santa’s food in your tummy?!

Thanks to for the image.

Entry filed under: In the Home, Wordplay. Tags: , .

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