Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Confessions of a Fed Up Christmas Hostess - Poem

Alas, Christmas day at last starts.

It should gift me happiness and hope,

but soon, guests will gobble the food then give off farts.

I sometimes wonder why I even cope.

 

These ungrateful guests whine and whinge.

They think my wine is not divine and my carols make them cringe.

Once stuffed with food, they will all soundly snooze,

because in that rich figgy pudding, I bumped up the booze.

 

I sincerely pray that they all slay the beast.

Once the Creature is downed, they will be snoring.

I can chirp along to cheesy carols after tonight’s feast,

as sleeping guests cannot belittle my carol choice as boring.

   


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