From John . . .

’Twas the night before Christmas, and I was a grouse

The question occurring: Am I man or a mouse?

You see I’d forgotten, my deadline was due

To my office I sprinted, taking stair-steps by two

Away to my keyboard I ran with a flash

To find that my hard drive had eaten my cache

So I took out my iPhone, and turned on a light;

Then it struck me quite sudden, I had nothing to write

My brain I was wracking, yet nothing bright came

I had written all year, so the subjects I named:

I wrote of History and Jump Ropes and COVID, the bane

My Toothache, McDonald’s, and COVID again

On Vaccines, on Diets, on Computers, and Ants

On Luggage, on Scout Camp, and Middle School Bands

Insurrections, Supply Chains, Garage Builds and more

On Night Shifts and Socks and Pronouns times four

On Rope Climbs and Mask blame, Afghanistan shame

On my good friend, named Amber, fighting cancer again

On Lying, On Mulch, and even on Guns

You’re eating alone if a girl calls you ‘Hon

On fun stuff and serious, the departure of Bert;

The passing of Brave Sweetie, the loss I still hurt.

I must stop rehashing the work I amassed,

‘cause my deadline is nearing; Oh no! It went past.

I tho’t of Maw in her kerchief, and I in my cap

But realized quickly that was nothing but disappointing

Then out on my lawn, not an elf or reindeer,

but a Peacock named ‘Ed’ was inclined to appear

And that’s when it struck me, what needed expressed

to all my dear readers, you are surely the best.

For your patience, appreciation, of what I do write

Let me wish “Merry Christmas, and to all a good night!”