The Morning Before Christmas

It’s the morning before christmas with so much to do,
I can’t find my head, and can’t find my shoe.
I’m drowning in papers, my clothes in a heap,
away in the manger my husband still sleeps.

The sun has arisen, the air has a chill,
the streets are still quiet, there’s dew on the hill.
And then I remember, clear out of the blue,
I have to go shopping, oh where is that shoe?

Under and over, all through the house,
I look high and low, quiet as a mouse.
I find it in the kitchen, why I’ll never know;
doesn’t matter now, it time for me to go.

Oh wait, I can’t go, I must cease and desist,
I can’t leave the house before I make a list.
My friend is roasting lamb, and baking with her daughter,
her husband will tend bar…perhaps for me, just water.
Another friend brings corn pudding, all ready in a pot,
I get off too easy, hor’s d’oeuvres and veggies are my lot.

Crackers, cheese and olives, to snack on before,
tomatoes, and breadcrumbs, and more are in store.
The clock is a-ticking, I really must go;
thank heavens it’s California with nary a snow.
But first I must post this poem to my blog,
I almost forgot with my head in a fog.

On Slicer and Dicer, on Daughter, on Friend,
may such days be a-plenty, and never to end.
On Blogger, on Shopper, on Cooker, on Wife,
I won’t complain now, it’s the time of my life.

So picture me now in my Volkswagon sleigh,
saying “Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good day.”