Saturday, December 23, 2017

'Tis two days of waiting

'Tis the afternoon before the day before Christmas

And all through the house not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse;
"Thank goodness, she's asleep," we declared
As we each found our spot for our own peaceful rest
In this crickety and drafty, rickety old house.

The stockings are hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that this dwelling,
(Beautifully built in 1888)
Doesn't become ashes - POOF! - in the air.

While our little one slept,
Dreaming of sugar, not doubt,
I sat alone in my room not wanting to come out.

Outside I can hear there is such a clatter.
I'd spring from the bed to see what's the matter....
Here from the window I can see a flash,
The windows are frozen, I can't open the sash.

The helicopter has been circling since morning, I fear
That a convict has escaped and is alighting on foot
From the regional justice system,
Or maybe with loot.

Egad! I thought, when will we be through
With being merry and all this "to do"?
When will the fat man appear with his stuff
Of way too many goodies for enough is enough!

What to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
Oh, no, that's the egg nog playing tricks in my head.
Perhaps I am done now. I'm going to bed.

For silence is golden, we are rich now indeed
But very shortly again we necessarily will head
The needs of a little one fueled and excited
O'er the wonder of Christmas in two very short nights.

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