Sunday, December 26, 2010

A Poem For the Day After Christmas

Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,
No a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Which is probably why I did not wake until 2,
That, and a day in NJ is worth sleeping through.

I kid, I kid; though I had reason to rest,
For outside, a billowing blizzard still pressed!
Cars and trees, all covered in white,
It must have crept up on us this Christmas night!

As I sipped on my tea and toast with jelly,
The dog drooled nearby wishing it in her belly.
Poor sister was sprawled on the couch with the flu,
She spent the night puking, and she still felt quite blue.

But next to her bucket, our tree was pretty as ever,
Despite her (and the neighborhood) feeling under the weather.
Each bough trimmed with memories from holidays passed,
Funny how time seemed to go by so fast.

Below, I marveled at the snow globe I'd crafted,
For my mother, and others (that hadn't get shafted).
If only the glue I'd used hadn't been such a damper,
By issuing a warning of its fumes causing cancer.

I'd redeemed myself Friday by making some sweets,
What better crafts than the ones you can eat?
Linzer tarts, made of almonds & raspberry jam,
Then we sat down to a dinner of spaghetti and clams.

That Christmas Eve night, Lili left Santa a note,
The next morning she saw that he had in fact wrote!
"Santa Claus" had signed his name oh-so elegantly,
And left a shit ton of presents underneath our tree.

I unwrapped my gifts of stockings and clothes,
And we tossed aside boxes and wrapping and bows,
The poor dog sniffed longingly at the gifts at our knees,
So I gave her a present of some sharp cheddar cheese.

An American Girl doll and books went to Lili,
I got Bullseye the Horse and a gift card to Chili's,
Tron's Daft Punk soundtrack and jewelry too,
Plus Stieg Larsson's "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."

Mom sent out boxes of her homemade cookies,
To all the new NJ neighborhood rookies,
At one time, I knew everyone's faces,
But they've since moved away to far-off places.

Twas time to pick up Grandma, and Sis;
My 91 year-old aunt, a delightful old pris,
Passed the farms and forests, I seemed to get lost,
At least that day the roads weren't covered in frost.

At home we proceeded to eat, as Italians will do,
Turkey, ham and meatballs: ravioli too!
The stuffing was missing, but it wasn't a loss,
Since we'd our fill of potatoes and cranberry sauce.

After an indulgent dessert of pies and cakes,
We finally succumbed to our stomach aches,
So we said goodbye and I went to sleep;
No wonder I couldn't be roused by a peep!

So I sit writing a poem because I am bored,
Outside the window, it's still snowing a horde.
Almost 7pm now, and it's still hard to admit,
That Christmas is over so lickety-split.

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