Saturday, December 17, 2011

A Poem for Decorating the Tree

When one decorates a tree,
He or she can see,
That the tree is a fine pine,
Sublime in it's prime-time,
For Giftmas joy, a key.

Now, see here what I have to say,
On this most lovely occasion,
Oh, and what a day it is,
A day that I like a bunch, A whole lot, a ton,
Genrally, a ton-of-a-lot-of-fun,
Very nice, on the whole,
In short,
I like it pretty good.

What is a birthday, anyway?
Why, it's a celebration of a person's birth,
The essential role that they play,
In the general course of say,
What ever happened,
What will... what may.

Now see here fool!
I'll tell you what's up!
I'll suck up your brains from a straw in my cup!

I'll eat you right up, if you don't understand!
I'll eat all your body: minced, cured, and canned!
I'll smack you right down if you dare reprimand,
The meticulous christmulous joy that I've planned!

Haha! Haha! And a fat HA, I state!
Your stupidity is all to much fun to berate!
You clearly have hate for the rhyme which I spake!
For your spirit is now on the brink of a break!

You cannot match my Giftmassy Joy!
Not one of my presents,
Not one of my Toys!

Go now and perish!
Flee from this Land!
Don't you see what this is,
Upon which I stand?

This is Christmas Isthmus,
The bridge on the sea,
The bridge to the spirit,
Of all that is in any way at all Christmassy.



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