THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS
With gratitude and apologies to Clement C. Moore

'Twas the day after Christmas, I'm tired and sore;
My living room looks like it's been through a war.
With paper and presents strewn all about,
It will take us six weeks to clean this, no doubt.

The children had run all amok from their bed,
And now there's a pounding deep inside my head.
The screaming, the tearing, the squealing of joy
As each gift revealed a shiny new toy.

I'd wanted to get Mom a gift that would melt her;
Now all I want is some warm Alka Seltzer.
The noise of the kids with their gifts clang away;
I don't think we'll see the cat until May.

The post-Christmas blues have already set in;
The things that I bought I've started regrettin'.
Several I got may make my life easy,
But my spirit is woozy, perhaps even queazy.

We mustn't forget the Babe in the manger,
Amidst all this stuff, his tale's in danger!
And how he will grow from baby to Lord,
But the kids are already chanting, "I'm bored!"

So the lesson, this day after Christmas, I learn;
Is the stuff that we buy has no power to turn
Our hearts to the path that is narrow and true;
That must come from His love, and the faith that's in you.