Each Christmas I wander all over the malls,
I peer in the windows, I tramp down the halls.
I search high and low for the things that feel right.
The ones not too gaudy or tacky or bright.
The ones I can say (with a confident tone),
Are meant in some fashion to live in your home.
(And to think that I do this on foot and alone!)
But this year as I wandered the shops all aglow,
I found very little to match those I know.
There were trinkets and trumpets and tons of cool toys.
There were coasters and candles and Christmas-y noise.
There were bangles and baubles and really cute blondes.
There were feathers and furniture, fishes and fronds.
But nowhere among these thousands of things,
Did I find even one that I wanted to bring.
(Though the blondes were quite tempting, they also had rings.)
So I gathered my thoughts and I planned my attack,
(or at least I did after my afternoon nap.)
With no plan in mind I sat on my floor,
And tried to think things that I hadn’t before.
While all of the things that I thought were unique,
None made good gifts, or at least not this week.
(but April is due to come in with a squeak!)
Then I saw in the piles of things in my room,
Something that shattered my gift-giving gloom.
I had an idea! A purpose! A plan!
Now all I needed were scissors and scans!
I quoted some Shakespeare (think Midsummer’s Night),
And set to the task of making things right.
(Working till dawn in my fake candlelight)
And then when I finished I wrote a short verse.
It rhymed and it reasoned (and t’was quite well rehearsed).
And when it was over I wrote it down here,
So open your gifts, you have nothing to fear!
(At least not from me for the rest of the year!)
((That’s only a week so stop cheering! Ya hear?!?))