Wednesday, December 26, 2018

A Pome.

'Twas the day after Christmas as Roseholme Cottage, you see;
Just one creature was stirring and that creature was me.
Rannie cat was asleep next to Tamara with care
Because the Hogfather had already been there.
Huck in his corner and me at my desk
Rested content with the usual mess.

The dishes were ready, all stacked in the sink
I've had a nice breakfast, with coffee to drink.
And now, boxing day, I'll be back to work
(For we've got some big doings, which I mustn't shirk).
And, oh blog readers, in that vast world out there,
Merry Christmas to all, Happy Holidays to share!


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well done ma'am. I couldn't compose a poem to save my life.

rickn8or said...

Well done indeed. I wrote a poem once. I was asked to never do it again.

pigpen51 said...

I also can't compose a poem, although I know some. Most of the dirty limericks out there are easy to remember.
I played in a rock and roll band, and they heard me sing, and told me I had to play the saxophone. Go figure, I can't sing either.
Happy Holidays to you and good weather as well.