‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for my spouse;
The stockings were emptied, the gifts all unwrapped
The goodies were eaten, the leftovers zapped
The children were back in their snug new abodes;
Leaving nothing behind but some rumpled bedclothes
And Mom in her sweater, and Dad in his tee,
Had just settled their buns for a long DVD.
No new no new games to try out, no toys to assemble
Just a long day of ease, nothing left on the schedule.
We’re in a new phase, we’re adapting OK
To the quiet and empty nest-ness of our days.
That’s enough of this silly old poem, I fear.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good year.