7 Sundays to Christmas (a mummy's ditty)
7 Sundays
to Christmas
And
everyone’s a-flutter
7 Sundays
to Christmas
Husband
begins to mutter.
Bags of
shopping hiding
In places I
forget
Present
ideas sliding
As we view
the internet.
The setting
in of panic
As red sold
out signs appear
The typing
getting manic
It happens
every year.
Lists
changing daily
No
constants since the dog
The anxiety
of failing
Upturned
faces agog...
Deep
breaths and decision
Belt
tightening with a flair
Hard
thinking with precision
No plucking
out of air.
School
plays and school days
Excitement
builds so high
‘7 Sundays
to Christmas!’
All the
mummies cry.
Concerts
and festive fayres
Cash flying
out the door
Teachers
gifts- those who care
Calendar
fills up more...
‘Must catch
up for a drink
Before
Christmas if you please’;
What
madness makes us all think
Of
decorating trees?
Street
lighting in November
Cards building
up in piles
Ready for
December
The month
of stress and smiles.
Fowl
ordered with the goose fat
That is
never used all year
Puddings,
games and moose hat
For the
season of good cheer.
Bottles
clink in boxes
Grand
opening day awaits
We’ve got
our Christmas sockses
The CD of
yuletide greats.
7 Sundays
to Christmas
Brain
starts to creak and grate
But look on to the bright side...
It’ll all
be gone in 8!
©Ruth Morrison 2014
