The presents all opened.
The wrapping discarded.
Uncle George and Aunt Mabel
have long since departed.

The house is a mess.
Your memory a blur.
You can’t quite recall
just what has occurred.

But one thing is certain
as you look at your waist.
You didn’t hold back
from feeding your face.

You ate all the pies,
the cookies, the cakes.
‘Til your belly was full,
your appetite slaked.

Now your mind has been turned
to a brand new New Year.
And the promises you’ll make
once January is here.

Let this bread be a start.
A nice cleansing treat.
A delicious delight
of fresh whole ground wheat.

Four neat stockings
all in a row
each bright and merry
with their own unique glow

On the first one, “Catherine”
stitched in loving hand,
sits above Santa
and his toys; a merry band.

“Wesley” is inscribed
on the second one with care
romping on his stocking,
a band of polar bears.

However, on the third one,
a more tender scene,
Santa feeding birds
under “Matthew” etched in green.

On the last one, “Jack”,
a pattern rather plain,
no tender hands have touched this yet
imagination still to claim.

Four neat stockings,
all in a row,
each bright and merry
with their own unique glow

Four neat stockings
have seen Christmas come very slow
they will stay until we break,
our own directions go.

How can I compare
With the beauty of a rose?
Graceful young and bright
Striking a seductive pose

How can I compare
With the beauty of the sky?
Shooting stars and clouds
So beautiful they make me cry

How can I compare
With the beauty of a dove?
White, cooing, sweet
Singing of true love

How can I compare
With the beauty of Godâ€s creations?
The answer is: I am one
Soaring with the constellations.