Get Ready!

Get ready to hear:
"I haven't done such and such
All year."

Get ready to cringe,
Because our neighbors will
Most likely binge.

Get ready, for you know,
This time of year only comes around
Every 365 days or so.

Get ready, it's not so bad,
One thing ends, another begins,
It's what's to be had.

Get ready (again) to hear,
That I'm glad I get to spend with you
Another wonderful year.

 

Midway

The center of things, I find, are best.
Like when you reach the center of something good:
You've gotten halfway there pleasantly,
And the rest, pleasantly, you should.

And when you're up against something bad,
And you reach that center mark,
You know you've only got halfway to go,
Before it's a walk in the park.

And if things are mediocre,
Or any other shade of medi-orange/yellow,
You've only got halfway more
Before you, in boredom, bellow.

So, halfway there, good bad or otherwise,
Can be a boon in itself,
But getting halfway there with you
Is where I find true wealth.

 

Three Day Bleakend

There are times I'm glad I have
A break from work,
But then when I come back,
What's this: more stuff!

And then, with all the work piled up,
I'm backlogged.
I could definitely, maybe,
Use another vacation.

A post-vacation vacation,
What I need.
But then, when I got back,
What then?

Another vacation, on top of that.
A post-vacation-vacation vacation.
Or a post-post-vacation vacation.
At least I'd get to spend it with you...

Last Break

Normally, a case of Mondays
Will ruin the complete set of Fundays.
But Monday, when you have a break,
Is a precious joy you must CERTAINLY take.

A rest, respite, a break, such peace,
To do what I want, when I want, how I please,
Provided it's okay with you-know-who,
The joy of my life, my sweetie-weetie-boo.

And together, we'll venture out into the world
And with each step, another mystery unfurled,
Like, if you spend too much time inside,
You'll soon feel over burdened outdoors, and wish to hide.

But hide or hair, or anything else,
I'll stay with her until the world's ice melts,
And then some, because, you know,
I kinda like her, and I love her so.

Breakcrate Day

Finally! A day alone!
A day that I may call "my own."
Well, not alone as in "by myself."
But alone. No relatives or elves on the shelf.

We have this time, here, now,
To relax, to rest, to eat roasted cow,
To wallow and wade through tinsel and foil,
As if it were Merriment's fertile soil.

And then we sort, and order, and sort,
The piles of things not growing short,
And to each pigeon gets a pigeon hole,
And to each corpus goes a spirit or a soul.

Last and not least, let us always remember
That such joy and relaxation happens each December,
And what really counts, after all, in the end,
Is the people (or person) with whom this time you spend.

Breaksing Day

And with that, the steam is gone
The air let out, the lining lon.
The goose is nothing more now but gristle
And grease and down, and maybe a thistle.

But, hey the stores are open now,
And we can go out and shop around,
Or return those things we didn't like,
Assuming we don't mind the hike.

But candles gone, one thing remains,
And it is not the bowl of Breakmas grains.
It is instead the family, kin,
Without whom I could not begin.

Family is there to help you out,
And give you light when all is doubt.
There is one such member I owe my life,
And that is her: my splendid wife.

Breakmas

Ring the bells,
If you're feeling s'wells.
Jingle chimes,
And wrangle mimes!

It's the time of year
When friends and family are near,
And when grinches and scrooges
Find that if they don't alter their ways, they loses.

And yes! At last,
A feast! Repast!
And while everything's closed,
You don't have to go into work, which is good, I supposed.

So bang the clangor,
And clang in Bangor,
And let the winter snow.
It comes around once a year, but soon, it has to go!