Ghost of Christmas Presents
Every year at the end of November
In my attic I crawl on my knees
In frustration I try to remember
Where I put away our Christmas tree
And I find, every year, without fail
A carton of half opened gifts
The detritus of last year's regale
In a pile like a festive snow drift
So this year I have made a decision
To embrace the recycling view
To take those things I scorned with derision
And regift them to somebody new
That crystal jam pot from Aunt Agnes
Will be under cousin Kate's tree
What Kate does with it after Christmas
Really does not matter to me
Here's a seven pound Christmas fruitcake
Like Grandma has made every fall
What a festive door stop it would make
I'll give it to my brother Paul
Here's a set of aluminum coasters
With whimsical Yuletide scenes
And an odd-looking single-slice toaster
They will both go to my sister Jean
I've a tray of exotic world cheeses
They surely improve as they age
I'll divide them among my grand nieces
Mallory, Justine and Paige
And what of these fuzzy pink slippers
I'll send them to my niece Eileen
Those gold plated nasal hair clippers
Will be tagged for my brother Eugene
I must carefully mark every last one
In some place discrete and secure
I am sure I'll be getting at least some
Under my tree again the next year
In my attic I crawl on my knees
In frustration I try to remember
Where I put away our Christmas tree
And I find, every year, without fail
A carton of half opened gifts
The detritus of last year's regale
In a pile like a festive snow drift
So this year I have made a decision
To embrace the recycling view
To take those things I scorned with derision
And regift them to somebody new
That crystal jam pot from Aunt Agnes
Will be under cousin Kate's tree
What Kate does with it after Christmas
Really does not matter to me
Here's a seven pound Christmas fruitcake
Like Grandma has made every fall
What a festive door stop it would make
I'll give it to my brother Paul
Here's a set of aluminum coasters
With whimsical Yuletide scenes
And an odd-looking single-slice toaster
They will both go to my sister Jean
I've a tray of exotic world cheeses
They surely improve as they age
I'll divide them among my grand nieces
Mallory, Justine and Paige
And what of these fuzzy pink slippers
I'll send them to my niece Eileen
Those gold plated nasal hair clippers
Will be tagged for my brother Eugene
I must carefully mark every last one
In some place discrete and secure
I am sure I'll be getting at least some
Under my tree again the next year