Christmas Cheer

The stockings aren't hung.
It should be no surprise.
In today's economy,
Santa has to down-size.

The Walmart shoppers
have slowed to a trickle.
If you're not done by now,
you're in a real pickle.

Jeff slams in and out
to the front porch to smoke.
Jon groans: "Trying to sleep
in this house is a joke!"

In the living room, Steph and Gord,
tucked in their beds,
watch their dreams of a night's sleep
die in their heads.

Jeff's back! reaching for
the doorknob with glee.
Five dogs raise their heads:
"Oh, it's time to go pee!"

Walking dogs in the dark,
I fall in the ditch.
Sometimes this Christmas gig
can be a real b*tch!

Mother Hubbard arrives

to prepare the big feast.

How’ll she ever turn 

lentils and beans

to Roast Beast?

Old Dog thinks he’s died

and gone straight to Dog Hell,

and his owner suspects

she has gone there as well,

For sixteen humans 

are coming for dinner

and bringing eight dogs.

Someone’s a real winner!

I’m the old woman 

who lives in a shoe.

We’ll have to hang ‘em on pegs

or else go somewhere new.

Two hundred inches 

of rain falling down:

Here’s hoping Santa 

and his reindeer don’t drown.

I can make it 'til Christmas 

is over, I think,

especially if you pour me 

one more little drink ;)

LOL. This is a tongue-in-cheek look at coping with the holidays. 

It is based on an actual Christmas our family had some years back, when there were half as many dogs as people, and I still lived in my sweet little trailer in the country. It was the best Christmas ever!

I don't actually advocate alcohol as a coping mechanism. But one little glass to soften the edges can definitely help. Smiles.

Am sharing this with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United on Sunday. Do come and join us.