Poetic Justice This Holiday Season in an Ode to Nationals

 

It’s the countdown to Boston

My house is a mess

I’m glad there is no one I have to impress

Papers and boxes are flung everywhere

Christmas is coming – I don’t even care

My husband is settled all snug in our bed

But I’m up all night, I can’t shut off my head

There are boxes to fill – there are presents to wrap

I’m tired but I can’t even find time to nap

My livingroom’s filled with my holiday clutter

All I can do is just stare and just mutter

I’d hire someone but I don’t have the cash

My brain keeps on saying “Dump it all in the trash”

I can’t do that, of course. It’s for family, you know

But Boston is looming – we’ve just days to go

I wish there was someone who just would appear

To straighten this mess - then I’ll get out of here

A elfin-like helper, so lively and fast

Who’d make everything shine and then make it all last

His team would be with him; they’d come through the doors

He’d call them by name and then give them all chores:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now clean away! clean away! clean away all!"

I’d sit on my sofa in awe of this mob

Who are cleaning, and dusting and doing my job

They’re professionally dressed from the head to the foot

While they vacuum the floor and get rid of the soot

One’s mopping the kitchen, one’s out in the back

Another one’s helping me find what to pack

Their eyes – how they twinkle!

Their dimples – how sweet!

And one of them just made me something to eat

One little guy with a very round belly

Brought me a muffin with raspberry jelly

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself

He gave me a snack and then later some wine

He set a nice table so we could both dine

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

He told hubby and me we could go off to bed.

He finished his work, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as they drove out of sight,

“Happy Nationals, Mom - and keep Sochi in sight!”