'Tis the season for a Christmas quarrel
With a jolly temper and a short fuse.
You slap there hands and tell them 'No'
Send them to the cookie jar and then
Wonder 'why won't they behave?'
Shiny lights put out on display to energize us all
And remind us of our training --
averted eyes and detached quick change smiles.
Our hearts pound with strained patience
as we push our carts full of gifts
piled up and over a teary child
confused by the offering of a gift and
The gentle advise of “don’t touch”
With the hustle and bustle of the Christmas holiday
Working to wrap us all in a potpourri of
Cinnamon and spice and designer perfumes,
the scent of department stores and cash.
The sss-click of your credit card being
Run through the scanning track
And the ca-zzzzz as your receipt prints out.
You scribble down your signature and grab for your bags
As you hurry to your next destination followed by
Children, frustrating as it may seem,
that bare a remarkable resemblance to you.
The smell of a Christmas cookies
All crusty and brown
Soon to cut my gums.
Piping hot coffee to ruin my day
To scald my tongue so I don’t taste the turkey dinner
that will catch in my throat and
I’ll wonder and gag.
Do I trust you to save me?
To squeeze the lump out of my throat
just to offer pecan pie and peanut butter fudge
to induce suffocating allergic reaction.