Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Bad Poetry Recap of Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Mommy was wondering when the lights would be dowsed;
The mismatching stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
And Daddy was threatening that they would all stay bare;
Unless the children were soon nestled all snug in their beds,
with nothing other than "Zzzzzz's" going through their heads.

They were all decked out in pajamas and 'staches,
when Ellie exclaimed with fluttering lashes
That she still had to write Santa a letter
and that letters to the reindeer and the elves would be even better.

Away to the pencils I flew with a dash,
Tore out the papers and told her to write like a flash.
Thirty minutes and three letters later,
our eyes were all bleary and I was as antsy as a gator,
to get on with sewing and munching and wrapping,
and sleeping and snoozing and napping.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard as quiet as a beetle
The chinking and humming of two knitting needles.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
I saw Emma knitting a scarf as long as the town.

She was dressed all in pink, from her head to her foot,
And her glasses reflected the lights like glistening loot.
Finally, more rapid than eagles my threatenings they came,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Spence! now, Cami! now, Emma...stop your pitchin'!
On, Adam! on, Ellie! It's time to get out of the kitchen!
To the end of the hall! to your bedrooms without gall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

Although my belly was chubby and round as an elf
from eating the cookie plate all by myself,
  I laughed when we finished our tasks and I glanced at the clock.
For it was still before midnight and I knew that we rock!

A slow blink of my eye and a glimpse of our bed,
And I knew that there would soon be a pillow under my head. 

A few hours later, Emma sprang from her bed, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
Emptying the stockings and wondering why Santa was such a jerk,
that he labeled all of the presents with indecipherable code names
like Eleanor Roosevelt, Thomas Jefferson, and others of historical fame.

A little while later, their breakfast of cinnamon rolls they ate,
And finally giving a nod, Daddy pushed away his plate;
He sprang to the tree and gathered the family around,
And away they all flew with haste abound,

And I heard them exclaim, midst the click of Mom's camera,
"Happy Christmas to all,
and to all a lame poem and a boatload of pics"

To be continued....
(probably without the rhyming though)

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