Twas The Morning After…

Twas the morning after Christmas, And all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, nay, not even a mouse.

The smell of chocolate and cocoa still hung in the air,

And gift wrapping clutter said Christmas had been there.

All snug in my blanket, I slowly opened my eyes,

And, not really wanting to, I did begin to rise.

To work I again set my sights on once more,

With dread in my heart I did head for the door.

Opening it slowly, I took a peek to the outside, 

Took a deep breath, then flung the door open wide.

Trudging through snow, I did go to start my car, 

Dreading the drive, even though it’s not far.

Work, work, and more work does await,

I must hasten my step, for I mustn’t be late. 

And so the story continues, till it be that night,

The one with the magic of reindeer in flight,

Where a fellow who wears a jolly suit of red,

Hops in his sleigh, and with a nod off his head,

Takes to the sky, or so the story does say,

And disappears till next year in his reindeer drawn sleigh.

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