A little ditty I wrote for those of you who like food, especially Christmas baking, as much as I do.
T’was the night before Christmas,
when all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
With a yawn and sore feet in the kitchen I stand,
hanging up my apron and wiping my hands.
Tarts, cookies, and fruit bread,
baked and decorated for the guests to be fed.
Nestled for safe keeping and placed in plastic wrap,
I can finally sit by the fire for a long winter’s nap.
Baileys and coffee with whipped cream I enjoy,
while Christmas music echoed Good Tidings of Joy.
When from the basement there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Light from the freezer illuminated from the open door
like bright yellow rays from the sun once more.
In perfect harmony, they all sing,
"come here, come here you tired old thing”.
I peek inside and to my shock I see
cookies, cakes, and tarts peering at me.
Whistling and taunting they put me under their spell
wafts of cherries, peppermint, and sugar I smell.
“Come eat us, come eat us” in unison they say,
I shake my head and shout, “no bloody way”.
I run back to my comfy chair by the fire
"come back come back", they sing like a choir.
Closing my eyes with my hands over my ears
letting them win is my biggest fear.
“Where are you, where are you” they continue to bug
I ran to my nightstand and found my ear plugs.
“Now Shortbread! Now Cookies, and Tourtiere!
On Gingerbread! On cherry Loaf! On Tarts!”, I dare.
“To the bottom of the freezer” I beg and I bawl,
“Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
And then in a twinkling, I saw from the mirror,
crumbs, cherries, and chocolate all smeared.
As I drew my head back to take a closer look,
I shout, “Dammit, their bait I took off the hook!
“They won, they won those sons of guns,
another year those dam cookies won!
“No baking” I proclaim “is happening next year”,
and from the freezer I heard, “that’s what you said last year”.
~ Marie Blackburn