Now, please don't ask why. I don't quite know the reason.
Maybe my head isn't screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that I just miss the lights.
Whatever the reason, my head or the bling
I hate ending Christmas- and this is the thing:
When Christmas is over I'm thinking, "What next?"
And I ponder and ponder and get quite perplexed.
It's not that this Christmas was all that fantastic;
We don't even get a real tree- ours is plastic!
But now that it's over and all put away,
There're no more distractions. I must face the day.
A new day. A new place. Another new year, yet...
What will I do with it? Welcome or Fear it?
Today must be started, whatever I do.
So start it I will. And I WILL NOT be blue.
And hey! Easter's just ninety five sleeps away.
And Christmas? Three hundred and fifty eight days.
and don't forget V-day...apparently boxing day was the day to switch over...Christmas candies to little pink, heart shaped boxes and bring out the Cadbury mini eggs.
ReplyDeleteOh yeah, and I feel you. Really I do.
Love it. Even though the poem is gloomy, it still made me smile. :)
ReplyDeleteYou should write little rhyming books for little kids and weird people like me. I'd buy them to cheer me up or read to the grandkids.
ReplyDeleteOh, you're like me. I'm so restless this week. Can't find my way. Great poem for a sappy sort like me who gets lost in that awkward space between sentimental nostalgia and graduation into the tomorrow that I want but am not quite ready for!!
ReplyDeleteYou clever girl.... :)
ReplyDeleteGood laugh for the morning. It does make me miss ya. There's always the shoveling to keep a person busy after Christmas. Oh joy. Take care way over there.
ReplyDeleteThere is not end to your talents! I feel a kinship with 'artsy' types. Come over for a scrabble game anytime.
ReplyDelete