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TWAS THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS
Twas the month after Christmas
and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled,
the eggnog I'd taste,
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
I'd remember the marvelous meals
I'd prepared:
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls, the bread
and the cheese,
And the way I'd never said,
"No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again
to do battle with dirt...
I said to myself, as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter
disguised as a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake,
every cracker and chip.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome and life is a bore..
But isn't that what January's for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet.
-Author Unknown |
© 2008