From John . . .
’Twas the night before Christmas, and I was a grouse
The question occurring: Am I man or a mouse?
You see I’d forgotten, my deadline was due
To my office I sprinted, taking stair-steps by two
Away to my keyboard I ran with a flash
To find that my hard drive had eaten my cache
So I took out my iPhone, and turned on a light;
Then it struck me quite sudden, I had nothing to write
My brain I was wracking, yet nothing bright came
I had written all year, so the subjects I named:
I wrote of History and Jump Ropes and COVID, the bane
My Toothache, McDonald’s, and COVID again
On Vaccines, on Diets, on Computers, and Ants
On Luggage, on Scout Camp, and Middle School Bands
Insurrections, Supply Chains, Garage Builds and more
On Night Shifts and Socks and Pronouns times four
On Rope Climbs and Mask blame, Afghanistan shame
On my good friend, named Amber, fighting cancer again
On Lying, On Mulch, and even on Guns
You’re eating alone if a girl calls you ‘Hon
On fun stuff and serious, the departure of Bert;
The passing of Brave Sweetie, the loss I still hurt.
I must stop rehashing the work I amassed,
‘cause my deadline is nearing; Oh no! It went past.
I tho’t of Maw in her kerchief, and I in my cap
But realized quickly that was nothing but disappointing
Then out on my lawn, not an elf or reindeer,
but a Peacock named ‘Ed’ was inclined to appear
And that’s when it struck me, what needed expressed
to all my dear readers, you are surely the best.
For your patience, appreciation, of what I do write
Let me wish “Merry Christmas, and to all a good night!”