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Charlie Stewart
 
Holiday Herald: The Night *After* Christmas
December 26, 2011

'Tis the night after Christmas
I'm flat on my back.
The holidays were exhausting,
And I've hit the sack.

I'd wrestled a raw turkey
At six in the morn'.
No time to ponder
The day Jesus was born.

Didn't know there were so many
Ways to cook that beast.
Everyone has their method
To prep it for the feast.

You can fry, broil or roast it,
Depending on your taste,
But it's agreed by expert chefs,
You need to baste, baste, baste, baste.

A fortnight ago
The list had been long.
Cards, lights, gifts and wrapping,
It went on and on.

The more we accomplished
The more the list grew.
Buy this and buy that
We were still not yet through.

We made a gingerbread house,
Cheesecake and pecan pie.
Could it be Christmas Day
Was finally drawing nigh?

Time was on my side.
No more shopping days remained.
Soon relatives arrived
From as far away as Maine.

The Christmas Eve service
-- A moment of tranquility --
Reminded us briefly
Of Jesus' humility.

Then Christmas arrived.
The children awakened.
We tore open our presents.
Who wants eggs and bacon?

We moved on to lunch.
We ate and we laughed.
We piled on seconds.
And passed the carafe.

Now with stockings and wrapping
Strewn from ceiling to floor,
Thoughts of clean-up and dishes
Make me all the more sore.

Just let me rest a little while longer.
I'll soon be feeling better.
Then I'll tackle those pots and pans
And start my thank-you letters.

Re-printed with permission from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

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