Twas a night after Christmas
To celebrate taking down my all of the Christmas stuff, I wrote a poem.
Twas a night significantly after Christmas, and all through the house
Not a decoration was stirring, not even thereabouts.
The stockings were still hung by the chimney I swear
I had hopes that Honey wouldn’t still notice them there.
The lights remained nestled in the holly outside
I considered removing them but let that thought subside.
I just put them up I say, scratching my head
It would be much better to go straight back to bed.
But deep in my brain I heard a decree
It’s way past time, you gotta take down that tree!
So I plucked and pulled all the bulbs off of the pine
Taking stuff down seems to take twice the time.
With a wreath in one hand an’ garland tangled ‘round my neck
I’m grumpy and sweating, I look like a wreck.
Time for a refreshment break I say with a sigh
but the eggnog I poured best days had gone by.
So much work to make a house bedazzled
Things are put up, then down, in the end I’m just frazzled.
Every bauble in its box, there are hundreds I’m sure
Each carefully packed away, that’s the only cure.
I finally did it, horaah! not a decoration in sight
To repeat next season. But for now, good-night!
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