Merry Christmas! Here’s a little Christmas poem for you. Not every bit of it is true. I can’t stop rhyming!
Love you,
Sue
I’LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
I’ll be home for Christmas,
relaxing with my dog.
Because I’m lactose intolerant,
I won’t drink any nog,
but I will post on my blog.
I’ll be home for Christmas,
alone beside the tree,
unwrapping all the presents
I purchased just for me;
they’ll all fit perfectly.
I’ll be home for Christmas
after midnight Mass at ten
when we’re celebrating Jesus’ birth
and peace on earth to men,
singing “Jesu Bambino” again.
I’ll be home for Christmas.
It will look like I’m alone,
but I’ve got my dog beside me
and my family on the phone,
also fresh blueberry scones.
I’ll be home for Christmas
as the guy says in the song,
but home has many meanings
and not one of them is wrong.
When you sing, I sing along.
I’ll be home for Christmas,
no turkey, ham or roast.
I’m eating enchiladas
with a tall tequila toast
to my most enchanting host.
I’ll be home for Christmas.
You might hear me caroling
in my favorite red pajamas
with feet and everything—
and a little bit of bling.
I’ll be home for Christmas.
Don’t feel sorry for me.
In this house full of lights and food and song
with my twinkling artificial tree.
It’s exactly where I want to be.
I’ll be home for Christmas,
maybe playing my kazoo.
But if you ring my doorbell,
then my Christmas won’t be blue
‘cause you’ll be home for Christmas, too.
Copyright 2012 Sue Fagalde Lick
Post this without attribution and Santa will blow up your house.
Unleashed in Oregon 